Blue and Red
by CanisLupusHorribilis
Summary: A huge collection of Leon/Ada oneshots and drabbles.
1. Colors

Blue and Red

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil.

A/N: To be blunt, I made this because I'm sick and tired of the lack of Leon/Ada. I don't expect anybody to read this, honestly. I'm writing it for myself. Most of the ideas came from my best friend (who will also be writing some of the oneshots/drabbles) and some came from me. The title is quite obvious. Drabbles will be short, oneshots will be long. Titles of the chapter will be bolded. (Ratings and everything else will be below title.) And I'm not too…happy about this chapter. (Sad, huh?)

**Colors**

Rating: K

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (293 words)

If you asked Leon S. Kennedy what his favorite color is, you'd probably expect him to say blue. He obviously likes blue. He wears it all the time. His eyes are a pale, ice-blue. His house key is painted blue. But he wouldn't say blue. No, he'd startle you by telling you that his favorite color is not blue but a color of passion and love but also of hatred and blood.

He'd tell you his favorite color is red, the color a certain guardian angel of his wore in both the Raccoon City incident and the cult incident in rural Europe. And he'd tell you that red just fits things better than blue. Because red is passion. And love. And hatred. Blue, he'd explain, is just blue. It's cold and cool and water. Not passion, not love, not hatred. Just coldness and water. And what fun is that?

---

If you asked Ada Wong what her favorite color is, you'd of course expect red. She wears red, mainly red dresses. And although she doesn't have red eyes, which would be weird, or a key painted red, you can just tell a woman as passionate as she would love red. But she would smirk slyly and cock her head and tell you that her favorite color is a color of cold, of power, of loyalty.

You see, she'd softly explain that her favorite color is blue, the color her protector wore in both the Raccoon City and the cult incident in rural Europe. She'd tell you that blue described her easier. It was the color of optimism, loyalty, faith, protection, and new beginnings. And that fit her better than red, with its meaning of hatred and blood. That just doesn't work with her.


	2. Coffee

Blue and Red

A/N: Just another quick chapter before I leave for school.

**Coffee**

Rating: K

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (277 words)

One of the most classic of all dates is going out and getting coffee. He didn't know why. But it was. Every time he'd ever asked a woman out on a date, he'd asked them if they wanted to go get some coffee. Why? He didn't know.

But she wasn't like that. Instead of going out and getting coffee, she'd asked if they could go to his place and have coffee there. He supposed she didn't like being in public. But, being the gentleman he was, he didn't ask and simply took her to his home. Together they made coffee, sat down with their steaming cups in hand, and talked.

Their first cup, they talked about stupid life things. What they'd done that morning. What they'd done the day before. He told her about taking the President's daughter shooting and how she'd nearly killed him. That had gotten a laugh from her.

Their second cup, the talk was more solemn. She avoided eye contact as they spoke about new biohazard outbreaks. He didn't know what led to that conversation. But they talked about it.

Their third cup, she gave him a list of cities that were expected biohazard targets. She explained that if there was a person out there who could stop them from happening; it was him because of his connection to the President.

Their fourth cup, she told him exactly why she'd been in Spain. She'd laughed nervously, asking him playfully if he'd put truth serum in her coffee, even though they'd made it together. She never cried though.

Their fifth cup, as she stood to leave, he grabbed her hand and asked her to stay.


	3. Piano

Blue and Red

A/N: Why is it that every time I make a story like this, it gets tons of reviews but the stories I actually give a damn about, the ones I put work into, get crap for reviews? That makes no sense, really… Hm. Oh well.

**Piano**

Rating: K

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (297)

She leaned over his shoulder, her body pressed to his back, and pressed down one of the ivory keys. He followed her hand, also striking that key and letting the piano boom with sound, complete with a bothersome ticking from deep inside. The huge instrument had something wrong with it and every time a key was pressed and the vibrations from the sound quivered through it, something ticked inside of it. She claimed that something was loose inside of it, which didn't make him very comfortable, and it was being upset by the vibrations. If she didn't care, he didn't care.

In an attempt to make him a better man, so she claimed, she was trying to teach him some songs on the piano. The grand piano, a gargantuan thing painted a glossy black, had been sitting in his house for years on end without anybody touching it until she came along. It had been there when he'd gotten the house and he never bothered trying to get rid of it. So, when she'd seen it, she'd instantly sat down and played through a couple songs, startling him to say the least.

With a gentle sigh, she reached over and took his hand. She rested her fingers atop of his and guided him through the song a little easier, making him want to laugh. He was an ignorant man, he supposed. It wasn't his fault he didn't know anything about music.

With a smile, he let her guide his hand over the keys. He was learning, sure. He'd probably be able to play the song on his own. Then again, he wasn't certain if he wanted to play the song on his own. Maybe he'd just act ignorant. After all, this proximity to her was really nice.


	4. Dance

Blue and Red

A/N: This chapter is not mine. This is my best friend's. She told me I could put this in here. And it might be a little confusing, because it was part of a much larger fic she wrote, but this was (in my opinion) pretty much the best part of it.

**Dance**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble

The crimson silk brushed against the coarse material of his cargo pants, swirling around her like blood in space; weightless and floating. Her ebony hair danced around her face, shadowing her alabaster flesh as she finished her spin. Her jade eyes sparkled with a flame he barely recognized from a woman anymore. Then again, the only woman he'd seen all night was the short blonde who followed him like he was God among man.

When the woman before him touched his chest, just the tips of her fingers brushed over the thick cotton like material of his shirt. He knew just by the way she looked at him that she could _feel _the pounding of his heart even though she'd barely touched him.

The dark room seemed to glow as she stepped away from him, her dress washing over her body like liquid as she moved. The silk caught the glow of the blazing torches around them, glistening as if small diamonds had attached themselves to her gown. Her lips, full and painted a soft blood red, curved in a sly smirk. Even though she reeked of secrets and lies, to him she was a drug, something he couldn't get enough of. And, honestly enough, he didn't want to get enough of her. His eyes were drinking her in, taking in every curve and contour that she had.

And then her voice, a purr as silky as her crimson gown, snapped him from his thoughts and his eyes met hers, sapphire versus jade, and her dance was over just as quickly as it had begun.


	5. Five Things Leon

Blue and Red

A/N: This chapter, and the next, will be based off the same idea. Basically, it's 'five things' between two characters; like five things they didn't know or five things that made them laugh, etc…. Surprisingly enough, although this is quite popular, I've never seen it in the Resident Evil fandom. Weird. Anyway, there will be quite a few of these in this story. Also, I apologize about not putting the word count in the last chapter. And the writing in this is not going to be perfect. It's just supposed to be short and cute.

**Five Things Leon Didn't Know About Ada**

Rating: K+ for a curse word

Genre: Romance/Slight Humor

Class: Oneshot (1,078 words)

1. Leon didn't know that Ada's favorite movie was The Thing.

On a chilly but still peaceful night, they curled up together on the large couch and flicked through the channels out of boredom. He typically didn't like doing that, as it bothered him for some reason, but there was nothing more to do. And she wasn't saying anything about it so he didn't think it really mattered. In fact, with how silent she was, he was beginning to think she was actually asleep. Until the channel changed and landed on a familiar white wasteland, where an Alaskan Malamute was running from a helicopter.

"Oh, stop!" she said suddenly, nearly making him jump out of his skin. "I love this movie. It's definitely my favorite movie." He didn't change it but he silently logged that new little piece of info away for keeping.

2. Leon didn't know that Ada deemed him worthy enough to curse around.

In all of the years that he'd known her, she'd never once uttered a curse word. He'd always thought of that as her way of showing she was above the average person, since almost everybody cursed these days. But even when she was hurt and desperate, she never said a curse, not even damn or crap.

That morning, he was pouring coffee into his coffee mug without really thinking about it. He was tired and his mind was foggy. In essence, he was working off of habit and instinct. The TV was on and she was sitting on the couch with her knees tucked to her chest, watching the news. From where he stood in the kitchen, he could see her slightly. He could see enough of her to see her growing impatience with the news, which was still praising the 'amazing' effort put in by the B.S.A.A. to free Africa. To say that the rest of the people going against bioterrorism were a bit upset by the over exaggerated praise was an understatement.

"Damn, will they never get over the fact that the shot Wesker with rocket launchers?" she suddenly asked. He shook his head at the curse word. Again, he'd _never_ heard her curse.

"Did you just-"

"I'll curse around you. You're good enough to curse around."

"Okay then."

3. Leon didn't know that Ada had extremely cold hands, especially at night.

The warm blankets surrounded them with a downy comfort, trapping and circulating their body heat. He was laying on his back, his left arm draped over his chest and his right arm wrapped around her shoulders, squishing her to his side. She was on her back too, though she was going to roll over soon, and was trying to get her new bracelet off. Unfortunately, the dark room was not making things easier.

"Fine," she sighed and rolled over. Her right hand immediately touched his chest and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Her hand was freezing! It felt like a block of ice after being pulled from a fridge and dunked in liquid nitrogen.

"Christ woman, do your hands ever warm up?" he asked, immediately taking her hand in his left hand in an attempt to warm her up. Her skin slowly started to soak up the heat from his hand, though he could still feel the cold in her hand. He had to admit, it was kinda weird that her hands were always cold.

"We've slept in the same bed for how many nights, and you just now noticed this?" she teased. He shrugged and rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. Her hand finally became a lukewarm, comfortable, temperature.

"Still…" he mumbled. She simply laughed at him softly.

4. Leon didn't know that Ada was a very good artist.

He walked into the living room to see an interesting sight. She sat on the couch, her legs folded in a way he wouldn't have been able to do ever, and in her lap was a large sketchbook. Her hand, which gripped a light blue wood pencil, moved over the paper in quick strokes. From where he stood he couldn't really see what she was making but he did see the dark grey color caused by the pencil.

She didn't seem to notice his existence and continued sketching. She seemed oddly enraptured with what she was doing and had a look of steady concentration on her face that he'd only ever seen when she was looking through the scope of a high powered rifle.

When she finally stopped drawing, she let the pencil drop and roll away before she looked over her artwork. She smiled at it before her green eyes lifted and spotted him. He smiled at her.

"Can I see?" he asked, walking over to her. She immediately held it out to him and smiled.

"Do you really have to ask?" she questioned. He shrugged at her and looked at the drawing.

It was a picture he knew all too well. It was one of them, together in a tight embrace, which had been captured by one of his few friends playfully. The drawing was simply amazing, the shading was perfect as were all the proportions and everything about it.

"Wow," was all he could say.

5. Leon didn't know that Ada enjoyed messing with his hair.

Although it probably looked like it, he never really cared about how his hair looked. His hair had looked the same since his youthful years and he'd never actually found himself caring about it enough to actually try and change it or anything. And once he'd hit high school, he'd become recognized for his hair along with other things. So, when she decided that night to suddenly make him sit on the floor between her legs so she could mess with his hair, he was a tad surprised.

Her fingers ran through his ash blond hair with expert control, separating thick locks of hair from each other with gentle strokes. He didn't want to admit that it felt pretty nice to have her running her fingers through his hair. It really did though. Even when she started gently tugging hair into different places, probably stylizing it for some reason, it still felt nice.

After about ten minutes of her sitting there, brushing her fingers through his hair and running her fingernails over his scalp, he asked, "Why are you messing with my hair?"

In response, she simply purred, "I love messing with your hair."


	6. Five Things Ada

Blue and Red

A/N: I forgot to mention this. Any and all views of things are my opinions and mine alone. Don't get all upset if I write something you don't agree with. There are other opinions than yours and you should learn to be open minded about those.

**Five Things Ada Didn't Know About Leon**

Rating: K+ for slight innuendo

Genre: Romance/Slight Humor

Class: Oneshot (892 words.)

1. Ada didn't know that Leon's favorite book was Cujo by Stephen King.

Out of boredom, she found herself digging through his box full of novels. She found plenty of old paperback war stories and mystery novels, not to mention the horror books. When her fingers suddenly brushed over a rough cover with a snarling Saint Bernard on the front, she smirked. One of her personal favorites by Stephen King.

"Oh, you found Cujo. I missed that book," he said suddenly from behind her. She nearly jumped out of her skin but looked over her shoulder at him. He smiled at her. "It was always my favorite."

"Cujo?" she asked, pulling the book from the box and standing. She turned around to face him, though her eyes remained aimed at the novel. The cover was ripped and torn from age and the pages were yellowish color.

"Yeah, I always loved it for some reason." She smiled at him again and decided that she'd be keeping the book for a little while. It was long overdue for a read anyway.

2. Ada didn't know that Leon played football when he was younger.

He was not a big man. His physique was closer to that of a swimmer than a body builder, with his well toned chest and arms but not overly huge muscles. And for that reason alone, when he and some friends of his got together to play football, she was amazed at the sight.

He was really good. He played quarterback, throwing the ball with expert accuracy that was obviously used in his marksmanship as well. She watched as he cocked his arm back, his eyes scanning the field carefully, before he found a person and threw the ball with all of his strength. The throw was perfect. The other player was not. Fourth down and his team was switched to defense instead of offense. He jogged over to where she sat and plopped down next to her.

"When did you play football?" she finally asked, offering him a cold bottle of water. He took a quick gulp of water before answering.

"Since high school."

That was new.

3. Ada didn't know that Leon's chest was a better pillow than the actual thing.

She'd been tossing and turning for the past hour, trying to make herself comfortable at least. She doubted that she was going to be sleeping any time soon but she wanted to, at least, get comfortable. But the pillow and the bed and the blankets were all apparently deciding to make her night hell.

"Geez woman, are you ever going to stop moving?" he asked from her side. She sighed and rolled onto her side to look at him. He looked at her with a gentle smile, which she easily returned despite her discomfort.

"I don't know. I just can't get comfortable," she explained bitterly, though her smile was still on her lips. He sighed, a sound very similar to the one she'd made only moments earlier, and suddenly wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her over to him and squished her to his side. She lay her head on his chest and felt her body, oddly enough, relax.

She was asleep in a matter of moments.

4. Ada didn't know that Leon lost his religious beliefs after Raccoon City.

Throughout the time they'd spent together, she'd never once seen him with any symbol of religion. Never once had she spotted a cross or a Star of David or anything. She wasn't quite certain if it was simply because he didn't like leaving those kinds of things lying around or if it was because he didn't have any. So, one day she asked.

"Are you religious?" she asked, looking down at him as he wrote a report about a mission he'd gone on about a week ago. She noticed, silently, that his shoulders tensed up slightly at her question.

"Used to be," he bluntly replied. She cocked her head curious at him, even though she knew he couldn't see her. His shoulders didn't relax and she noticed that his writing was a little more sloppy than usual.

"Why'd you drop it?" she asked, leaning forward and resting her hands on his shoulders. The tense muscles under her hands relaxed as soon as she put slight weight on them.

"I didn't want to believe in a God that could take the only woman I loved from me."

5. Ada didn't know that Leon liked to sway but didn't like to dance.

The dance floor was covered and they basically blended into the crowd like any other couple did. She laid her head on his chest, listening to the distant beat of his heart. His arms were wrapped around her, completely closing any space between them.

"I hate dancing," he mumbled suddenly. She didn't move her head but one of her eyebrows raised curiously.

"Isn't that what we're doing?" she asked in confusion. He laughed softly, a sound that seemed to rumble in his chest.

"No. We're swaying. Big difference."

"Not really…" she mumbled.

"Fine, be like that." They continued to 'sway' to the music in silence, their arms wrapped tightly around one another like they dared not let go. She was beginning to close her eyes when he mumbled stubbornly, "There is a difference…"

She simply laughed.


	7. Fatherhood

Blue and Red

A/N: Needed something to cheer me up…

**Fatherhood**

Rating: K

Genre: Family/Slight Romance

Class: Drabble (276 words)

He gently ran the tips of his fingers over her brow, where thin locks of black hair rested. With how deeply asleep she was, the touch didn't wake her or even make her move, which he was very grateful for. He'd just spent the past half hour trying to get her to go back to sleep after she'd started crying for some unknown reason, like every night before. His wife, always the calm one and always the reasonable one, said it was just restlessness. He supposed that made sense, somehow.

Waking up in the middle of the night, having hair tugged on, fingers chewed on, so on and so forth… Being a father was definitely not the easiest thing he'd ever done. But it was by no means the hardest. Over the past few months he'd decided that he would rather deal with a crying infant than a blood thirsty zombie any day. At least the crying infant would stop crying and start giggling after a little while. And it probably helped that she was adorable, unlike zombies.

She was already sporting the raven colored, silky hair of her mother but the few times she opened her eyes one could see the pale blue color of her father's eyes. She was, according to many, the perfect balance between man and wife. She usually tucked her hands up close to her face and didn't really make any noise except laughter every now and then. Her eyes were wide most of the times, as if she just couldn't get enough of looking at everything. She was adorable.

Yes, being a father was definitely much better than fighting monsters.


	8. Gun

Blue and Red

A/N: This came from a song. Maybe two...

**Gun**

Rating: T for innuendo, violence

Genre: Angst/Romance

Class: Drabble (344 words)

The cold metal touching her temple felt extremely nice and she allowed herself to close her eyes. It had an instantly cooling effect on her overheated skin, letting her head feel less like an overheated balloon and more like her actual head again. And at the moment that was so very nice. It was a nice way to escape the moans of the undead that pierced the thin metal walls of the shed she'd taken shelter in. Their fists smacked into the wobbling shelter, probably raw from all of their insistent pounding. But it didn't matter to them if their fists were completely gone. The undead wouldn't leave until they were dead again or their prey was in their hands.

Her attention was suddenly turned back to her gun, the cooling metal suddenly not so cool. It had absorbed some of the heat from her own body and it was warming up. But she didn't lower the gun. Instead, she cocked the hammer back, something that wasn't really necessary with modern day guns, and fell into her own thoughts.

The gun was a nine millimeter, a Beretta, and had served her well throughout her years. It wasn't too heavy, just heavy enough to reassure it was still there. And it was deadly. A suddenly frightening thought filled her mind. If she was to, perhaps, pull the trigger on the gun…she would never feel a thing. There would no longer be pain, there would no longer be sorrow, there would no longer be missions, there would no longer be…love.

Her hand dropped, the gun falling to her side and hanging limply from her hand. The one thing that had made her feel worth anything was a man. He was the only one who didn't treat her like she was a monster. He was the only one who cared. And she wasn't about to let that go because she was a coward, because killing herself was an easy way out of this hell she called life.

Gunshots echoed outside and she stood. Backup had arrived.


	9. Tears

Blue and Red

A/N: I'm feeling down so this is what you all get…

**Tears**

Rating: T for violence

Genre: Romance/Angst

Class: Oneshot (1,241 words)

The rain oozed from the sky at a steady rate, spattering on the lifeless tombstone below. The concrete did its grave's occupant no justice. It didn't represent her stunning beauty, her calm attitude, or even her vibrant way of dressing. And yet it did not matter to anybody how well it represented her. Expect to matter. To that one its representation of her meant everything.

He ran a hand through his hair, which kept sticking to his forehead because of the rain. After several minutes of simply standing there, he finally knelt down and rested a single flower, a jasmine flower, in front of her gravestone.

"I finally found one," he said softly, his voice quivering slightly. He felt like somebody was standing behind him with their arms around his neck and was choking him. "All of the flower shop owners gave me this look like I was crazy because I wanted a jasmine flower. People…"

He lowered his head and clenched his jaws as sobs threatened to rack his body. He wouldn't cry. Not because he was too prideful and not because he felt he was too 'tough.' No, it was because the last thing she ever said to him was…

"God…dammit," he breathed, his voice cracking. "I miss you. Last time we were apart because of…you…your death…it wasn't so bad. I knew you were alive. You're not anymore. It's like waking up from one damned nightmare and entering a worse one…"

---Three Months Ago---

The mission had been bad from the beginning. The entire thing was cursed. He should've known to back out, to make her back out, after the giant and the lake. But he hadn't. He'd been afraid of upsetting her, especially since he'd feared at the time that she'd hated him. And now they were both stumbling through the quaking halls as the volcano started to erupt, smoke shooting into the sky and shielding the island from sunlight. The other two, 'the kids,' were safe on the boat. Only they, 'the adults,' had stayed. They wanted to assure themselves that Uroboros was dead. Speaking of Uroboros…

The massive monster burst through the door they'd had the misfortune of walking past, the shockwave it caused throwing them into the far wall. She yelped loudly as she struck the wall and he clenched his teeth together to stop any noise from coming out. Before either of them could move or pull out a gun, Uroboros' right 'hand' shot out at him and its tentacles wrapped around his upper torso, trapping his arms to his body. As he felt the life being crushed out of him, his ribs nearly giving way under the creature's hand, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that she managed to move out of the way at the last second.

"Run!" he coughed, hoping that she'd at least escape. One of them had to. But he knew that she wasn't going to. She gave him a solemn look and turned her attention to the creature. In her right hand was her ever trustworthy gun and she took aim at the arm that was holding him.

Like with the giant on the lake, three rounds pierced the monsters flesh and it released him. He stumbled to his feet and moved away. But the creature forced him to move the opposite way from her. They were now standing on both sides of the monster. But Uroboros wasn't interested in him. It turned its attention to the woman. And that's when he noticed the shards of metal in the monsters left hand. It must've gotten it form one of the walls or doors it had smashed through.

He went for his Desert Eagle, the gun resting in his thigh holster, and started to say her name but it was too late. She knew her fate and stood calmly, her gun aimed at the creature's head. No, past the creature's head. Which he didn't understand. And then the creature thrust its arm forward and she shot.

The glass next to the creature shattered outwards, ruining one of the only windows in the hall, and heat instantly poured in. He understood now. The volcano was spewing hot lava down onto them. The base was mostly heat resistant but once the heat got in, there was no getting it out.

Uroboros immediately started screaming in pain from the heat as lava slowly slid past the window. Without consideration towards the two it had been trying to kill, it scrambled back into the room it had come from, leaving the two alone in a hall that was quickly becoming way too hot. But neither of them cared.

"Oh God," he breathed, practically running to her as her knees gave out. He placed his hand over hers, adding pressure to the bleeding wound on her stomach. Her face was pale, the loss of blood immediately taking its toll on her. She offered him a weak smile as she rested her shoulder against his body, the heat almost non-existent. The way they sat was much too similar to the one that had occurred ten years ago, again in a burning laboratory, when she'd 'died.'

"That wasn't very nice of him," she said, her voice almost a whisper. He couldn't imagine a time when speaking had taken energy out of him. She must've seen something in his face because she tried to shrug. When the gesture proved to be too difficult, a sad frown flickered across her lips. "Go…"

"No, we're getting out of here together," he said immediately, blood oozing between his fingers. Her hands under his felt eerily cold and he wanted to hit something, to make somebody else suffer as much as she was and as he was. "I'm not letting you die down here."

"It's really not so bad," she whispered, pulling her hands from his grasp on her stomach. He didn't mind that her fingers were bloody as she gently stroked his jaw with her fingertips. "Numb…is all…"

"Just stay awake," he begged, an odd prickling feeling appearing in his eyes. When was the last time he actually cried? "Please…"

"Don't cry for me," she said, her hand sliding from his face and falling limply to her lap. Her head rested against his shoulder in an all too familiar way and as she took that last, shuddering breath, he knew what she meant. Because all he felt was numb.

---Three Months Later---

"I miss you," he whispered, gently touching the gravestone. A huge, gold locket rested near the gravestone. Nobody dared enter the graveyard and steal it. Government protected their dead agents with everything they had. Hell, you had to pass through a couple of armed guards just to get in.

"They miss you too… Everybody does…" Other trinkets, necklaces and hats and stupid things like that, rested near the gravestone. They'd all paid their respect to the woman they barely knew. And he appreciated that.

"And… I love you… I still do. Everybody told me to move on… What do they understand? You were the one keeping me away from people throughout the ten years you were alive. I'll never move on… Sad, huh?" He rubbed his eyes, trying to make the tears go away. Finally, he touched the stone one last time and stood up. "I'll be back next week."

And with that, the man with the broken heart silently left the graveyard.


	10. Beaten

Blue and Red

A/N: I'm putting this here because I don't want any more, "I know how you feel…" from anybody. I didn't put that at the beginning of the last chapter to get responses about it from any of you. I put it there as an explanation as to why all of a sudden my oneshots are depressing. Don't respond to the author's note, okay? The chapter is the focus, like it is with any story, not the author's note. The same with today, though. I'm still feeling a bit down so the chapter's a bit dark. Hopefully this will be the last of the darker chapters.

**Beaten**

Rating: T for Violence

Genre: Angst/Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Class: Oneshot

He'd never seen somebody like her lose so much strength. The once powerful woman was staring at him like he'd hurt her or something. That was not the woman he knew. The woman he knew would've walked right up to him and stared him in the eyes and calmly spoken to him as his equal, or even his superior. But she wouldn't have looked at him like a…like a…beaten dog would.

What had happened? His superiors said they didn't really know. Something about torture, possibly. The mere idea of her being tortured made him clench his teeth in fury. Luckily, whoever had done it, they were dead now. His superiors didn't deal lightly with people anymore. Not after Tricell turned out to be a carbon copy of Umbrella, in essence.

Why was he here? He'd gotten the call early in the morning that somebody down here knew his name and they wanted him to check it out. He'd willingly come, dragging himself out of bed and into his car. The drive, like always, had been a boring one. And then he made it to HQ and saw his superiors standing around the interrogation room. He'd looked past them, through the 'magic' mirror and saw _her_.

She'd been sitting against the far wall, her raven hair spilling off of her head like a waterfall and shielding her face like it always had in Raccoon City. He remembered that she used to brush it out of the way quite often. But his eyes trailed down her features. Her clothes were ripped and torn, her skin bruised, her knees were tucked to her chest and she rested her head on them. She looked like somebody who'd been…torn from their old self.

When had it happened? They didn't know that either. They'd simply said that one of them had noticed her and something… He couldn't remember the details of the conversation. His eyes were always drawn back to the woman in the room. He longed to see her strengthen up again. He longed to see her be okay again. She was the strongest person he knew. She could stand up to a tyrant with her side gushing out blood. She could smile and tease while zombies reached at them. She was strong. Not anymore…

Who was the most upset by the situation? Before he'd entered the room, it had been his so-called 'fiancé.' She'd called his cell phone and told him straight up that she was upset he'd left so early. He'd simply responded that there was somebody in the HQ that needed his help. She'd snapped that she needed him too. Not his help. But him. And he'd said that his friend really needed his help. She'd told him that he wasn't to come home. He'd said okay. He didn't really care. Not while _she_ sat in the room, her black hair in her face, without moving. The funny thing was, he believed that the woman with the black hair cared less about the situation than anybody else.

Where was the worst damage? A doctor had been called in. But she wouldn't let him near her. But the doctor had stood at the opposite end of the room and looked her over. She'd been attacked. Nothing more, he said. How did he know? Well, he went over a huge list of reasons why it was either an attack or torture. (They believed it was torture because average people don't just randomly know one of the best agents around.) That was some kind of comfort. Being attacked or tortured, those could be helped. Other…things…couldn't.

How had he convinced his superiors to let him talk to her? He'd simply walked up to the man in charge and calmly asked if he could try to talk to her. The man in charge had simply nodded and motioned for him to be allowed to enter. And he did.

The second he entered, she lifted her gaze and stared at him like that beaten dog. He'd simply raised his hands and offered her what he hoped was a friendly smile. The situation had him down. He could feel the uncomfortable force behind the smile. But she didn't seem to really care. She stared at him, those green eyes of hers piercing and searching through his soul, and he stared back. He did lower his hands though. The position had been uncomfortable.

"Will you talk to me?" he finally asked, not really caring if anybody was watching. She blinked at him and he took note of all of the cuts and bruises visible on her. She wore a tank top, black jeans, and a pair of leather boots. The tank top and jeans had rips and tears and blood soaked through the fabric. Her arms were covered in tiny lacerations. Her neck, however, bothered him the most. Huge black and purple bruises covered her throat. Whoever had hurt her was lucky…because he, looking at her now, felt like strangling whoever had done this to her.

She stared at him silently and he sighed. "I guess not, huh?" he questioned. She blinked and he stepped forward cautiously. She stood. He almost stepped back. But she wasn't standing in a defensive way. She was just standing. "Going to talk?" She shook her head. "You okay with me being in here?" She nodded her head. "Can I walk over to you?" She nodded her head again, though he noticed a ghost of a smile on her lips. That was a little more comforting.

So, he walked over to her. And as soon as he was close enough, she stepped to him and pressed herself to him. Her hands rested on his chest instead of her wrapping her arms around him, so he simply hugged her to him. She was like a beaten dog, which saddened him and infuriated him and worried him. Like that beaten dog, though, she simply needed somebody there for her. And he would be. Forever and always.


	11. Hug

Blue and Red

A/N: The chapters should start being not so depressing anymore. But I'm exhausted so this probably sucks...

**Hug**

Rating: K

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (253 words)

How was it that simply standing in his arms made her feel that much more comfortable? It didn't really matter what kind of a hug it was. It could've been a simple one armed hug or even just giving her a friendly hug. And it didn't matter what was going on around them. If he wrapped his arms around her then she was happy and comfortable. And he loved to do just that.

He hugged her in the morning, squeezing her gently to him as if he was afraid she'd disappear when he released her. And he hugged her when they got home from their respective jobs, using one arm to hold her to his side. And he hugged her when they were on missions together, hugging her every now and then to make sure she was okay. And although those hugs didn't always help them out when they were surrounded by the undead or whatever else, it sure made her feel much safer.

As she stood in the kitchen, thinking about his arms and his loving hugs, she heard the door to the house open. As if he'd known she was thinking about him, he walked in and she heard his heavy footsteps approach her. She felt his arms snake around her waist, making a smile appear on her lips and he kissed her neck gently.

Of course, her love of his hugs probably had something to do with what they generally led to afterwards. Either way, she sure loved his hugs.


	12. BioGod

Blue and Red

A/N: This chapter probably won't make sense for many of you. It's connected with my a series I wrote up (Project God, Red Rogue, Together We Stand, and The G-Virus War) and I've been wanting to do a oneshot like this for a long time. (If it confuses you…just say something in your review, if you review, and I'll try and explain it to you.) Just so you guys know, for further reference, there will be lots of oneshots and drabbles connected to my actual fics in this here collection.

**Bio-God**

Rating: T for Violence and Language

Genre: Horror/Romance

Class: Oneshot (854 words)

He had her pinned up against the wall with one hand wrapped tightly around her throat to make breathing basically impossible. Her hands were wrapped around his wrists, her fingernails biting into his skin, but he wasn't going to release her any time soon. Coal black eyes stared up into hers, his lips curved up in a smile that showed tiny slivers of the white fangs in his mouth. He stood with his body parallel to hers, his shoulder locked in place so she couldn't run free. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as air became less and less available to her lungs.

"Let me go," she gasped, trying to kick out at him. Her right boot came into contact with his side but it was much like trying to kick concrete and she cringed slightly. She could actually feel his skin rejuvenating _around _her fingernails. It was a rather disgusting feeling, much like the one a person got when they stuck their fingers in play dough and got it under their fingernails.

"Now, what would the fun in that be?" he asked, his voice a cruel snarl. He sounded so damned creepy, she thought. His voice had this raspy tone to it but it also sounded eerily hollow. Like an echo, in a way. "I mean, really now… That's just like asking a wolf to release its rabbit."

She was starting to feel lightheaded enough that her legs seemed to disappear. Luckily her sudden lack of control over them went unnoticed by the ungodly being before her since he was holding her up and she didn't really need her legs at the moment. But she knew that losing control over her legs was just a warning. She was dying. Slowly.

Her right hand pulled away from his wrist and tugged viciously at his hand, trying to pry it away from her throat. He laughed cruelly, so different from the one who was typically in control of the man before her. For this _thing _that was speaking to her was not the man who she recognized when she looked at that face. A virus, more powerful than Wesker's or the G-Virus or even the T-Veronica virus, had manifested itself into his body and formed what had taken to calling himself Striker, the God of the bioweapons. He wasn't like the man who'd been subjected to such cruelty without good reason. He was evil incarnate. And only a few things could break him of his destructive ways and let the kinder 'side' of the man before her return.

"You won't kill me," she gasped, forcing the words to come out at once. This 'god' didn't like weakness so her showing how weak she actually was at the moment was not a good idea. "You can't kill me. He told me about…about you. About the things…the people…that can hold you back."

His eyes narrowed, those all black orbs seemingly dancing with hatred and fury. She didn't let the fear bubbling inside of her show its face though. She had to keep strong or else he'd win. And they'd all lose. They'd all just fall down and lose. There was no winning against this…this bio-god. Unless she could do something.

"Been speaking about me, has he?" the monster questioned, his voice that low snarl again. He was sneering now, revealing all four of his elongated teeth. The upper canines were the longest, much like a vampires. But the bottom canines were also sharp and fanglike and they helped exaggerate the evil look he had going on.

"He does…because he wants…us…prepared," she wheezed out, her fingers digging into the thick leather glove of his right hand. "You won't kill me… You…you… You think…I'm worthy of life…you like me."

He suddenly released her and she collapsed to the ground. She caught herself with her right hand while her left clutched at her very sore throat. This wasn't like the last time he'd choked her. This was much different, more like how Wesker would choke people. But she didn't say that.

Suddenly, the god of the bioweapons knelt down and stared her in the face. She held his black eyes with her green ones, almost begging the pale blue of his other self to appear suddenly, and showed no fear. He was like a dog. He attacked based on fear.

"You're worthy because you're intelligent…you're brave…you're not like those cowards. And, of course, you're quite beautiful," he said with an emotionless voice. She didn't mind hearing that from the weapon, sadly enough. But she knew that wasn't all he had to say. "But know this… I'm not like him. I'll kill you. He won't. Be a good little girl and run back to your little army now. I wouldn't want them to miss their so-called leader."

And with that, he stood to his full height and walked away. Like a ghost, or even like the monster that he seemed more and more like every day, he faded into the shadows silently, leaving her alone. She stared after him, almost wanting him to come back. She didn't mind hearing kind things from the terrible side of him. But she would really like to hear those kind things from the human in him too.


	13. Five Times Leon and Ada

Blue and Red

A/N: This chapter can be considered somewhat cruel. However, because this is a Leon/Ada fic and I'm a Leon/Ada fan, I'm not going to be Miss Nice to the other pairings (especially since they aren't exactly nice to me or Leon/Ada in general). So, I don't personally care about how you feel towards this chapter, honestly. Besides, if you don't really like the chapter at all, you shouldn't be reading this fic. Also, this is meant to be humorous. I'm not bashing everybody; I'm not calling anybody idiots. I'm just pointing out _my_ thoughts/feelings in _my_ chapter.

Premise: Leon and Ada found FanFiction like many 'fictional' characters on accident. Since then, they can't help but see what is on the site when they have free time. Of course, they don't really support everything they see. In fact, they hardly support anything. But they still read it out of…shall we say, curiosity?

**Five Times Leon and Ada Laughed at FanFiction Pairings**

Rating: T for Language

Genre: Humor/Parody/Romance

Class: Oneshot (880 words)

1. Leon and Ada laughed at OC pairings.

He finds them completely ludicrous. Either super badass females (or rarely males) come in and (somewhat) literally sweep them off their feet while the other just…exists. Really, he's read fics where she got beaten, yes, beaten, by some big-boobed moron. Yes, that's right. An assassin/spy/super badass got beaten by some big-boobed whore who only wanted to sleep with him and, literally, that was all she was thinking about. But instead of getting upset like some 'fictional' characters (cough-Wesker-cough) they laughed.

She finds it absolutely hilarious that people actually think they could beat her in a fight because she can sit down and point out the inaccuracies. And he finds that hilarious too because, really, he likes his women to have brains more than…well, you get the idea with the boob thing.

What he doesn't find hilarious is when people call her names, for you see, he defends her honor with everything in them. She just smiles, kisses him on the cheek, and purrs that they're just children who just don't see reality. Of course, even with the name calling she still thinks it's hilarious they think they can beat her.

2. Leon and Ada laughed at Redfield pairings.

At first, he found it quite annoying that all people wanted to do was him and Claire Redfield, his good friend and confidant, to get together and screw 24/7. But then he found the humorous side of it thanks to his wife. She pointed out that they were flawed to a point of destruction. Whether it was Claire's abilities (they liked to have Claire become SUPER Claire and beat her-the assassin/spy/super badass-one handed, no eyes, and two broken legs) or Claire's beauty (he would vouch that his lady love is countless times more beautiful than little Miss Redfield), she pointed out the huge flaws that made the stories completely ridiculous. And they became humorous. He still didn't like the insults thrown towards his wife though.

And of course, she found it comical that people actually thought she-a woman of class and beauty unparalleled by any other-would fall for Chris (Meathead) Redfield. The man was smart, when he wanted to be. He was calm, when he wanted to be. He had some class, when he wanted to. But he was as big as the late Jack Krauser and typically got so caught up in his work, she thought that if somebody were to whack him over the head with a frying pan while he was doing something, he wouldn't even react. She didn't like that in a man. And it was obvious she wouldn't.

Her choice in males were tall, muscular (but not too muscular), blond, pale blue eyes, and a good sense of humor. And the fact that people could deem her…shallow enough to fall for a meathead like Chris…well, that was just funny.

3. Leon and Ada laughed at Wesker pairings.

Now this one, this one truly bothered him for a little while. Because of the way they made them out to be. She didn't like them at first either, finding it sickening (enough to the point of her actually feeling nauseous, though that was later connected to morning sickness) and quite insulting. Because they usually made her-the assassin/spy/super badass-out to be either a) completely enamored with that hideous, dyed hair man-thing or b) Wesker's toy/bitch. And she was neither. In fact, she hated Wesker. She still did. She hated his remains sitting in that volcano in Kijuju. She was more strong-willed than little Miss Tomboy Redfield herself. But people still wrote it, as if they wanted to spite the image of the godly assassin/spy/super badass.

Then, he found the humorous side to it. It was simply stupid. And stupid things were funny. Especially when, like with all, they could settle down and point out all of the terrible flaws. (Wesker having emotions, ha! That's a laugh.) They were still bothered by it, just a little bit. But their laughter about the fics typically overshadowed their anger.

4. Leon and Ada laughed at yaoi/yuri pairings.

This one was just hilarious from the start. How could people honestly be so ignorant as to not see the blatant (cough-him-staring-at-her-ass-as-she-climbed-out-of-a-boat-cough) male-female attraction between them? And even then, he remembered flirting with a woman, agreeing to go 'diving' with another, and well…marrying and having two kids with a woman. And the same for her. Other then her blatant love for her husband (who was then at the time not really her husband), she had Jon before all of the games started and of course others.

But people, always the ignorant beings that they are, find it necessary to use 'fictional' characters to play out their darkest fantasies. And that, in some way, is just funny.

5. Leon and Ada laughed at crack pairings.

These were just funny because nobody had no reason to do it. They made no sense but, yet again, people and their fantasies. Of course, some were gross. (him and Sherry? Ew.) Some were plain weird. (Her and Brad? The f--k?) Some made them question the people who wrote them. (Him/Her and Tofu? Seriously now.) But, they all made them laugh. Just because they're ridiculous. And everybody knows that ridiculous things are funny.


	14. Story

Blue and Red

A/N: This oneshot is only dialogue. And two of my OCs (Leon's sister and his niece) are in it. Well, technically one is but the other is…kinda in the background. It's basically based on a story I told my own niece a long time ago about these two. (Completely made up, has nothing to do with any of the games.)

**Story**

Rating: K+ for mentioned violence

Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure/Fantasy

Class: Oneshot (708 words)

"Tell me a story Uncle!"

"A story? From me? Why me?"

"Cause…you've got good stories."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Okay… Um…let's see. Once upon a time… There was…a place."

"What kind of place?"

"A kingdom. Far away from here. And-"

"You gotta describe the kingdom!"

"Okay! Fine… There's a huge, all white castle and lots of little houses surrounded by…a forest."

"Wow…"

"Hey, you asked. Um… The kingdom was ruled by a king and queen, like most kingdoms are. And there was a princess of course. And the kind and queen… What?"

"You have to describe the princess."

"Geez… Okay, she has…um…short black hair. Green eyes. Pale skin. She's kinda tall. And she likes the color red. A lot. It's her favorite color. And whenever she wears dresses, that's the color the dresses are."

"She sounds familiar."

"Does she? I have no idea who she is. Anyway, so her mom and dad, who aren't so great because they're not very good parents-"

"Describe them!"

"Okay! God. The king's…blond. And he had weird eyes."

"Why?"

"I dunno. Does he need a reason?"

"No."

"Okay. And the queen…she's a…how to put this in nice words… Dresses…inappropriately. And she has huge hair. And a funny accent. Actually, they both have funny accents. She sounds French, in a way. And he sounds English. Okay, now can I go on? Alright, so the princess's parents want her to get married to some guy."

"Another prince?"

"Yeah."

"Is he an ugly prince?"

"Um…yeah. He's kinda a meathead."

"Like that one guy?"

"Yes. Well, he's a meathead and the princess doesn't like him. At all. In fact, she knocked him into the fish pond when they first met just because she doesn't like him. And he also has like…two other princesses he's supposed to marry but he really likes this one for some reason even though she pushed him into the fish pond."

"Cause she's pretty?"

"Yes."

"Is a knight going to save her?"

"Huh?"

"A heroic knight with a pretty white horse should save her from the prince and then they should have their happily ever after. And then the evil king and queen should get eaten by…a…a…troll. And then the knight and the princess can rule the kingdom with kindness."

"You have this all figured out on your own. Why am I needed?"

"Describe the knight!"

"Okay…um…"

"Blond?"

"Sure. Blond, blue eyed, pretty tall. And he liked the color blue. And he was smart, gallant, you know, all the perfect qualities."

"Shut up, Uncle."

"That wasn't very nice. Anyway. So the princess's best friend is the knight who wasn't born into royal family and technically wouldn't be able to marry her. But they're friends anyway. They'd risked each other's lives for one another several times and, as you know, that can pull a couple people together quite easily."

"They secretly love each other, right?"

"Definitely. So, the knight's pretty upset about the prince. Not only because he loves the princess but because that's just messed up. He'd be more than willing to chop the prince's head off but-"

"Uncle…"

"Heh… Sorry kid."

"Not that. It's just the knight knows he can't chop the prince's head off because the prince has a magic spell around him."

"Classic princely cowardice."

"Yep."

"Okay. So, he knows that and out of fear for losing his fair princess forever, the knight asks her to flee the kingdom with him. She agrees and they ride off on their…what kind of horse?"

"Um… A… A Lipizzaner!"

"Did they even have those… Never mind. Right, they rode off on their Lipizzaner to flee the prince and married in a far country. The prince, in the meantime, got married to the other princesses who realized what had happened and left him for other princes in other countries. And the king and queen got eaten by a..."

"Troll."

"The king and queen got eaten by a troll. And then the knight and the princess came back and ruled over the kingdom as king and queen and were just and kind and everybody loved them. And they got their happily ever after. The end. …Happy now?"

"That was a good story Uncle. I really liked the part where you and Aunt got your happily ever after."


	15. Space

Blue and Red

A/N: I don't like this one but I wanted to update something…

**Space**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance

Class: Oneshot (831 words)

There was only one woman he loved. She was the only one he could love, the only one who could hold his heart. Sure, there were others who he tried to put into that space in his heart for her but they never worked.

There was Ingrid Hunnigan. Too bossy. Much too bossy. She was kind enough outside of work but when they were at work, she treated him like a toy soldier designed to do her bidding. Not very fun. Okay, not fun whatsoever. He'd never even considered asking her out. The mistake of asking for her number, if only to relieve stress and pain caused by the mission he'd been on at the time, had cost him dearly. She'd never taken him seriously again. He'd never been completely nice to her when they were face-to-face again.

Of course, he could've taken the easy way out and tried to make a move on Claire Redfield. She wasn't his type. At all. She was, sometimes, more manly than he was and that was kind of frightening since he was pretty damned manly. But he also knew that he could never take a relationship with her seriously, especially not since she treated everybody like they'd never lost somebody. But he could never take the relationship seriously because he knew, he just knew, that she and her brother would try to use him to get through to the government. No sir. No can do. And he didn't love her. At all. He didn't even truly see her as his friend. She was just somebody who had the Raccoon City outbreak in common with him.

Ashley Graham was another prime candidate, if she wasn't the President's daughter. He knew that there were two main things behind this one, not including age. (He didn't like the idea of dating somebody who was seven years younger than him.) One thing was he didn't really like her. He didn't even really view her as a friend. The entire mission had been about saving her. She was a mission to him, not really a person. Cruel, yes. But he was an agent and his mind worked like an agent's. And the second thing was the fact that she was the President's daughter. If he ever tried anything with her, he'd be sent to Gitmo for the rest of his life. And he didn't want that.

More recently there was Angela Miller. Nice woman. Not as smart as a certain woman but smart enough. Pretty good with a gun. But prone to getting in danger for some reason. Half of his recent mission had been spent helping her. And that wasn't what he liked to do. At all. And he didn't really feel anything for her. Not really. Not truly. The situation had been eerily close to Raccoon City. But she hadn't done any of the things that other woman had. She hadn't sacrificed herself. And although she'd been willing, she'd tried making him let go, that wasn't really enough. The other woman had willingly offered herself to that monster to kill in his place. But back to Angela… He just didn't really feel anything for her except maybe a tiny crush. He'd given her CPR, not a kiss. He'd agreed to go 'diving' to get out of an awkward situation. He'd helped her get revenge because everybody deserved a go. He didn't love her. Not really.

But none of those women fight into that space in his heart that was set aside for the woman who wasn't bossy or was only playfully bossy. She could order him around and smile at the same time and he would know that she wasn't really bossing him around. And no matter how many jokes he cracked around her, she took him seriously when he wanted to be serious. There was no reason for her to not take him seriously, especially since she knew that he was damned smart when he wanted to be.

And she wasn't manly. Oh, by no means was she manly. She wore silk dresses and high heels and showed off her beauty quite willingly. But she could also take him down in a matter of seconds. And he knew she didn't need to use him to get government secrets. She could do that on her own. She was pretty talented. And she had much more in common with him than an outbreak in a city.

She wasn't seven years younger than him, which was a good thing. She was much more than a mission to him. He only encountered her or worked with her on missions. Otherwise, missions had nothing to do with her. And she definitely wasn't the President's daughter.

And she was great with guns, perfect at fighting, and didn't really need help. Sometimes, yes, he could help her. But that was typically after she was hurt so badly most people would be dead. And he felt much more for her than a little crush.

And that woman - that woman who wasn't bossy and who took him seriously, who was as beautiful and feminine as she was deadly, who had more in common with him than any other, who was around his age and wasn't a mission and wasn't related to the President, who was great with guns and at fighting and didn't really need help, who he felt much more for than a little crush - was the only one who could fill that space. And he was determined to find out just how to get her to do that, no matter how long it took him.


	16. Prom

Blue and Red

A/N: This can technically fit into my story More Than a Feeling (which, for those of you who don't know, is a high school AU about Leon and Ada). But I 'm not really certain if it belongs in there or not. And the theme for the dance is masquerade, the one my school's using this year.

**Prom**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance

Class: Oneshot (668 words)

She looked around nervously at the huge mob of bodies in front of her that was moving and swaying to the music pouring out of the speakers. Her hands unconsciously smoothed down the small wrinkles in her crimson gown-a cocktail dress that fell down to her ankles that was the same color as the crimson mask covering her eyes with the pale red feather sticking out of one edge.. She was nervous and uncomfortable but she'd come anyway. She wasn't particularly fond of dances, especially not one as over exaggerated as prom. But she'd wanted to come, if only to see him in a tux.

"Wow," somebody said as they walked past her. She lifted her gaze and her eyes landed on Luis Sera, in a black tux with a grey mask on, as he trotted past with his newest female companion tagging along. He eyed her quickly, his date looking bored, before he noticed that his 'examination' had been caught. He grinned at her and stammered out, "You look amazing, senorita."

She rolled her eyes and stated, "Go on with you little friend, Sera." Her voice was harder and colder than she'd expected it to be but he got the hint and left. She didn't mind hurting his feelings if it resulted in him leaving.

With Luis gone, she scanned the crowd. Her eyes searched for the familiar blond hair or the familiar slanted stance as he stood leaning against something. But she couldn't see him anywhere. It was like he wasn't even in the crowd, even though she knew he was. So, she started searching for other familiar faces. But the faces were all covered in thin masks that hid their skin from her sight.

With a bitter sigh, she considered turning and leaving when a husky voice calmly asked, "Care to dance with me, fair lady?" She tensed slightly, recognizing that voice, and turned to face him. He was wearing a mask, like all others, and it was a deep blue that matched the shirt he wore under his black jacket. It was a tux, she realized, but it was lacking a bowtie. However, she didn't really care. She smiled slyly at him.

"Why, of course," she purred. He offered his hand to her in a most gallant manner and she settled her hand atop of his, her palm pressed to his. He led her to the dance floor, where bodies were pressed closer than usual, and she turned to face him. With almost instinctual movements, she rested her left hand upon his right shoulder while her right hand held onto his left hand. His free hand rested on her waist. He smelled of cologne and, faintly, smoke from a fireplace.

They started to move in tune with the softer, slower music that flowed out of the speakers, their bodies moving in unison. Her dress swiveled slightly as they moved. They leaned even closer together, as if they wanted to be as close as possible, and she felt the tips of his ash blond hair brush against her face. They were both tall and in heels she could easily look him in the eyes. Her hair brushed over his face just like his brushed against her face.

As if the dance had been imbedded in their brains, she moved away from him, pulling into a spin where only her hand touched his. The world blurred and then she was quickly pulled back to his body. She felt herself exhale, as if the move had taken more than just a little bit of energy. When she was close to him again, the song ended abruptly and they were positioned close to one another, their faces close enough that she could lean in and kiss him.

"You're a pretty good dancer," she purred to her best friend/boyfriend. He grinned at her and leaned forward, closing the small gap between them with a gentle kiss. When they broke apart, she grinned. "And you're a pretty good kisser too."


	17. Partner

Blue and Red

**Partner**

Rating: T for Violence

Genre: Romance/Horror

Class: Drabble (321 words)

Its clammy fingers curled around her neck, almost horribly slow, and he lunged for his fallen gun. The huge, glistening barrel of the Desert Eagle was the first thing his numbed fingers felt, and he yanked it to him. He noticed that she had her nine millimeter pressed to the monsters grey head, and he took aim. He'd have to be careful with this. He aimed at the monster's right knee and pulled the trigger.

In a second, the round ripped through flesh and bone and blew the front of his kneecap out. The creature, ever silent, collapsed and she was freed, falling weakly to the side. In a minute, the blond officer with the Desert Eagle in hand ran to her and helped her up. They had to get away before the creature got up. As they ran, she leaned heavily on him, weak with bloodless and pain.

They ran for several minutes and stopped only to catch their breaths. The heat of the molten metal around them was starting to suck the breath out of them. She nearly collapsed but he held onto her, his arm wrapped carefully around her waist.

"Thank you," she breathed. He glanced at her in confusion. "You… Anybody would've let me die… You didn't." He wondered how she knew that he'd found out about her secret, the reality of who she truly was. But he didn't bother to ask.

"We're a team. We're partners," he said, hoping that would explain enough for him. Of course, he wanted them to be much more than teammates but he'd settled for the idea of being her partner if it got them both out of the city alive.

They were about to start walking again, when she whispered, "I was hoping we could be more than partners… After all this…" He looked at her in shock and old nerves spiked but he nodded faintly.

"I'd like nothing more."


	18. Rings

Blue and Red

**Rings**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (271 words)

They stood before the priest as he softly spoke, his gentle words painting out their future for them without meaning to. They stared at each other, their eyes never leaving one another's. They held hands, their arms slightly stretched from their bodies, and their fingers were intertwined lovingly.

Together with the priest, they were alone in the huge church. Its painted windows were pierced by the rays of sunlight, painting the ground and them in multiple colors. Jesus Christ, along with countless saints, looked down upon the couple being joined. They weren't Christian, not really, but they'd gone before these powerful people and show that, no matter what, they were going to be together. Years of monsters and countless battles hadn't held them apart. Neither would religions or regulations or anything. Nothing would.

"Rings?" the priest suddenly asked. Their hands fell away from one another's and they searched their pockets, both of them wearing casual wear, for the small velvet boxes. She pulled hers out first then he followed. No ring bearer meant separate boxes. They glanced warily at the priest and he offered them a soft smile and a nod.

They took turns placing the simple bands of gold around each other's left ring finger. The rings were dead simple, no writing or engravings and nothing was terrible special about them. To the common eye at least. But to them those rings, those simple rings, marked the beginning of something they'd been waiting six years for.

"You may kiss the bride," was the final thing they heard before their lips touched in the first kiss of their official _holy_ matrimony.


	19. Sister

Blue and Red

A/N: An OC of mine is in this. She is Leon's little sister and played a part in a couple of my stories (primarily the Project God series). And dogs. Lots and lots of dogs. (Which are symbolic and have more of a meaning than one would guess in this chapter.)

**Sister**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance/Friendship/Family

Class: Oneshot (1,525 words)

He was, admittedly, a little worried about the outcome of letting her meet his sister. See, the thing was, he loved his sister-an adopted sibling who'd needed his constant protection as a young girl-but he loved the woman he was walking with just as much. He was worried that, like the many women he introduced to her, his sister would have hate the only woman he'd ever been in love with. If his sister did hate her, he'd be placed into an awkward situation. But she was confident, calmly telling him that every few minutes that his sister wouldn't hate her so he'd agreed to let the 'meet' occur.

They arrived at his sister's house, a glorious two-story that she bought with her first couple government paychecks, and he knocked on her door. He glanced over at his-hopefully-future wife as a chorus of barking exploded from the backyard. She returned his gaze with a pleasant smile and the door opened. Nemesis Kennedy stood silently in the doorway, her mocha colored hair tied back in a ponytail with her bangs falling messily into her face.

"Bro! I thought you'd gotten lost or something," she teased, her green eyes flashing in humor. She looked nothing like him, with skin a shade lighter than her hair and green eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Her obvious adoption meant nothing though. He'd always been closest with her. His siblings had exiled him and Nemesis in their youth because they weren't like the rest of the kids. They'd wanted to be military instead of 'firefighters, police officers, and doctors' like all the other kids.

"No, it was all traffic," he lied easily, hoping her ability to read him had faded away through the years they hadn't been together. In reality, he and his Eurasian beauty had woken up a bit late thanks to…activities the night before. "Nemesis, this is-"

"I know who she is. You've spoken about her enough," she said, shooting him a look. She then turned to his companion, a wide smile on her lips. "Nice to meet you. Name's Nemesis Kennedy, weirdest member of the Kennedy family." The darker skinned woman extended her hand to the paler skinned woman in a friendly manner. He was surprised to say the least. When Nemesis had met any of his other girlfriends, she'd given them a death look and a bitter statement about herself. Not this time.

"Nice to meet you Nemesis," the older woman coolly replied, taking the offered hand. They stood as easily as a couple of friendly housecats but in reality, he knew they were like a couple of lionesses, just waiting. He had to hope that this time Nemesis wouldn't give her all of the hell she'd given the others. "He's talked about you quite frequently," she suddenly said, breaking his thoughts and motioning towards him with her hand.

"Then I'm certain he's told you all about how I scare his girlfriends away," Nemesis replied, a grin growing upon her lips. She nodded at the younger woman. "Don't worry though, I won't judge you as much."

Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "Why?" Both women cast him a confused look but he quickly added, "You're not a nice person. Something must be going on." Nemesis grinned at him slyly.

"Nothing's going to happen. I'm just being nice. We've gotten past the age of…teasing and all that good stuff," she replied, her voice steady and calm. "Now, come on in. The boys won't hurt you guys. They recognized you, I think, so all they'll do is bounce." She started to head inside but stopped and said, "The boys are my dogs. My dear brother there refused to let me live in D.C. without guns and dogs." His girlfriend shot him a humored look as she walked into the house.

"D.C.'s got bad crime rates. I'm sorry I wanted you to be safe, Nemy," he replied, following the two women. He shut the door behind him and instantly heard the sounds of claws scratching over tile and wood and instantly three dogs lunged up to lick at his face. A pit bull, his fur white with black splotches on his coat, sniffed at the new woman and she knelt down to give him a pleasant scratch on the head.

"Boys, relax," Nemesis called as she headed towards the kitchen. The Tibetan mastiff and the Rottweiler jerked their heads in her direction and trotted off but the Alaskan Malamute stayed with him. The big black and white dog loved him about as much as the German shepherd and the Burnese Mountain Dog did.

"How many dogs do you have?" he heard his girlfriend laugh as the pit bull and two other dogs licked at her face. Her hands ruffled their thick fur and played with them, never showing them the dislike that most of his girlfriends did.

"Nine. There's Pattu, the Staffordshire bull terrier. Then there's Wiler, the Rottweiler, and Tundra the Tibetan mastiff. There's Kal the German shepherd, Micah the Malamute, and Bernie the Bernese Mountain Dog. Then in the backyard, because they're lazy asses, I've got Demon the Doberman Pinscher and Leon the Leonberger-can you guess why I named him that? And finally, upstairs because he's getting his rest, is Kodiak my Chow Chow mix," Nemesis said, standing still and watching the woman as she scratched and rubbed the dogs. They all surrounded her now, even the Malamute, and waited patiently for their turn at the rubs.

"Wow," she laughed, scratching Tundra before standing up. "Sorry guys but I think your matriarch there wants us to join her." The dogs whimpered softly but trotted off obediently. The two followed Nemesis into the living room, where she plopped onto a couch and motioned for her guests to do the same. They sat on the love couch and he unconsciously started picking hairs off of her clothes.

"Some day Kodiak will actually be awake when you come by," Nemesis said as Leon the dog joined her on the couch. The sound of heavy paws hitting the ground grabbed their attention and a fluffy coal colored dog trotted into the living room. "Oh, look who got up." Kodiak looked at her lazily before trotting over to the newcomers and sniffed at them. He then settled his head onto the new woman's lap and closed his eyes. "You guys hungry? Because I can get us something to eat."

He glanced at his girlfriend who was gently running her hand over the dog's head, and she said, "I'm not really hungry but I could go for something to drink. Water, maybe?" Nemesis nodded her head before looking at her brother.

"Help me out, would you Bro?" she asked. He glanced at the woman next to him and she smiled and nodded. "See, even she wants you gone. Now come on!" He sighed and pushed off from the couch. He walked after his sister and watched as she leaned against the counter, casting him a quiet look.

"Before you start Nemy, I really like her and…" He trailed off at the sight of her huge smile, which wasn't malicious or cruel in any way. "Wow…when was the last time you smiled like that? It's kinda creeping me out."

Two dogs trotted into the kitchen to stand near the counters, where their food bowls were placed. Nemesis looked at them and suddenly asked, "You want to know why I didn't try to scare her away?" He nodded. "I know you love her. It's even though I've only seen you two interact for a few minutes. You look at her all the time. You watch her without realizing it. This isn't like the last girls that I've met." She paused, watching as Pattu scratched at his color. "And… You talked in your sleep when I was still living with you. When you'd pass out at the computer and I'd walk by, you'd always say a name. _Her _name."

"So… You don't hate her…because I actually like her?" he asked, slightly shocked. His sister had always been so close to him. She'd read him like an open book, no matter how intricate of a lie he formed. She knew things about him that even he didn't truly know. Like how he apparently talked in his sleep.

She nodded in response to his question before starting for the fridge. She pulled out a pitched of water and said, "Besides. She passed my test. The test that none of those other bimbos could."

He frowned and then felt a cool nose touch to his hand. He looked down to see Micah standing there, the animal's cool blue eyes peering up at him casually. "The dogs? The dogs are a test?"

"I love my boys and they're the easiest way to see if I'll like the girl you bring over or not. She likes the boys. The boys like her. It all works out in the end," Nemesis replied, pouring water into cups. "Besides. She's awesome. Have some kids, would you? I bet a combo of the attributes from you two would be freaking awesome."


	20. Bond

Blue and Red

A/N: This week's updates will all be drabbles because of a busy schedule. And they'll probably all suck because I'm pretty much rushing on them.

**Bond**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (239 words)

After six years of being separated, something pulled her back to him. No matter how hard she tried to stay away from him, which was difficult to begin with considering the miniscule size of the village itself, she found herself being drawn back to him. She watched over him, her eyes as steady as a hunting bird of prey's, and made sure that he never got more than a scratch or a bruise. When Mendez tried to crush his rib cage, she placed a couple of bullets into the giant's back and freed him. When a ganado got too close, or his gun ran dry, or he was backed into a corner, she was there.

After a while, she began to give up trying to fight the idea of staying away from him. And as she walked into the room behind him, her high heels tapping very lightly against the carpet, a familiar weakening of the knees found its way into her and she wanted to whisper his name. She wanted to lower the gun, not press it to his back like she did, and she wanted him to turn around to face her. But he didn't. And she didn't try to make him.

Because although they had a bond that would never let them leave each other, a bond that made them a part of each other; things had to remain difficult, if only for a little longer.


	21. Ship

Blue and Red

**Ship**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (285 words)

The ship moved with and over the waves gently, rocking slightly with the water's movement. Its huge white deck glistened with spray from the ocean below and children ran back and forth, playing games. Two people stood against the rail of the ship, staring out over the never-ending water. Their eyes, green and blue orbs that spoke of intelligence but hid their true pasts, flickered back and forth over the water.

"Look," the green eyed woman suddenly said, pointing one slender finger at the ocean. A sleek grey body broke through the foaming water, its long body spinning slightly as if it wanted to show off its abilities before it plunged back into the water. Several other dolphins followed suit, leaping into the air alongside the cruise ship as if the huge metallic beast was one of them. They almost seemed to be dancing. "Beautiful," she mumbled, lowering her hand back to rest on the rail.

"Should I pull out the ever clichéd that they're not nearly as beautiful as you?" her companion asked, his blue eyes gazing at her playfully. A grin found its way to her crimson painted lips and her shirt fluttered slightly in the wind, letting him catch a tiny peek of her pale skin below the red fabric.

"The dolphins wouldn't appreciate it," she purred. Her eyes became mischievous all of a sudden and he knew what she was going to say. "But I really would." He grinned and wrapped on arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He leaned closer to her and gently whispered into her ear.

All the while the ship continued to rock and move with the waves and the dolphins continued their dance.


	22. Late

Blue and Red

**Late**

Rating: T for Innuendo

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (247 words)

The first question came right after he walked into work. "Why are you late? This is like the first time you've _ever _been late." He'd turned to face the older man and shrugged. He didn't bother trying to come up with a good excuse or lie. What was the point?

The next question came from Hunnigan, who stared at him disdainfully over the rim of her glasses. "You're late. Why?" He'd shrugged again. Honestly, there was no point in coming up with a lie. Though he was beginning, at this point, to wonder if everybody was going to ask.

The third question came from Ashley, who asked, "How come you're late?" He'd sighed and then shrugged at her question. She'd just confirmed that everybody was going to ask him why he was late. And none of them were going to get a lie.

The fourth, fifth, and sixth question came from his fellow bodyguards. "Man, you're late. Hunnigan was about to explode this morning. How come you're late?" He'd smirked at their first couple statements and shrugged at the last question.

The seventh question came from the woman who lived with him now, her sultry voice alone brightening up his question filled day. "How's life, love?" He'd simply replied that everybody was panicking over the fact that he was late. And she'd responded, "Well, when you get tonight, let's see if we can find a way to make you late again?"

After he agreed to her second question, nobody asked anymore questions that day.


	23. Jewelry

Blue and Red

A/N: This is sort of for my friend, who just went through a break-up with her boyfriend. I hope her relationship ends much like the one in this drabble.

**Necklace**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance/Angst

Class: Drabble (274 words)

We agreed to go separate ways, she told herself constantly. It's over. But when her fingers lifted to her neck to unsnap the necklace, she couldn't do it. Her hand would fall back to her sides and she'd feel tears build up but she wouldn't do anything else. She couldn't bring herself to take off the necklace he'd bought her.

Why? Simple. It represented them. It represented love and caring and happiness and all those good times they'd shared together, before the government had lunged forward and tried to kill her. Before he'd softly said that they couldn't be together because he wouldn't endanger her. Before she'd softly agreed to his statement.

The door bell rang suddenly, grabbing her attention easily. She quickly called out for the guest to hold on for a second and wiped the back of her hands over her eyes. She didn't need somebody to see her crying. As soon as her eyes were dry enough, she walked over to the door and opened it.

And there he stood. She nearly stumbled back, her hand immediately flying up to the necklace, but he lifted his hands and successfully made her stay still and remain silent. "I can't do it," he said gently, reaching out and grabbing her hand. "I can't…I can't just have you for a month and then let you go because of those morons in the White House. I can't." She stared at him and he looked away, but his hand didn't leave hers. "I know you probably don't want me back but-"

She stepped forward and kissed him. All the while, her hand remained on the necklace.


	24. Don't

Blue and Red

**Don't**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance/Angst

Class: Drabble (326 words)

She looked stunning, clad in a white down that fell to the floor. Her black hair, which usually fell messily into her face, was pulled up in a bun with only a few strands falling into her face. He could see from the look on her face that the dress and the hair made her uncomfortable. Almost as much as it made him.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered. Her voice was strained with emotions and he knew she didn't to cry, which she looked about to do, out of fear of messing up her mascara and making it streak down her face and successfully ruin her 'special' day. "Why all of a sudden?" She knew it wasn't 'all of a sudden.' She knew he'd been searching for her since Spain. Before that too.

He didn't bother answering those questions. They both knew the answer. But he had to ask his own questions and he softly mumbled, "Are you really going through with this?" Her eyes fell from his and her hands gently messed with the frilly parts of her dress. Without thinking, he said, "I always pictured you in red."

Her green eyes met his again and she whispered, "How often was that?" He forced himself not to say 'all the time' and simply shrugged in response. And that's when she took a step back and sat down. Her face fell to her hands and she didn't look like the deadly spy, the vicious assassin. No, she looked like an average woman.

"Please…don't," he said, begging. That word seemed to hang in the air between them. Don't what? Cry? Marry? Give up? So many words, none of which were spoken. She lifted her head and their eyes met. And in those green depths of hers, he saw a resolve.

"Let's run away," she whispered, holding out her hand to him. He strode over to her and took his hand. "And let's not look back."


	25. Bed

Blue and Red

**Bed**

Rating: T for Innuendo

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (314 words)

They lay, sprawled out, on top of their blankets on the bed. Her hand rested on his chest, his arm under the small of her back so his hand could rest on her stomach. Their room was dark, only a single candle lit the room. It was barely enough for them to see each other since the candle sat on the opposite end of the room from the bed.

"I love this bed," she mumbled dreamily. She let her right hand trace over his abdominal muscles lazily. They were as relaxed as one could possibly get, especially for two people like them. Of course, she knew it helped that they'd secretly gotten news of her 'boss's' death in an African volcano.

"I love the things we do in this bed," he replied casually, running the tips of his fingers over her waist. She jerked herself up into a sitting position and looked down at him. "What?" She glared at him and he simply grinned up at her. "I meant sleeping! God, I don't have that dirty of a mind."

"Right… Perv," she mumbled. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her back down to his side. Then, he rolled over and, holding himself up with his arms, held himself overtop of her. "Okay, fine, you're not a perv!" she laughed.

He smirked triumphantly and pushed away from her. As soon as his back was on the bed again, she rolled over on top of him and straddled his waist. Her face was only a few inches from his and a grin danced across her lips.

She kissed him, drawing it out for a long period of time, and as soon as they split apart she gave him a mischievous look. He gave her a curious one in response. "Just for future reference, I love the things we do in this bed too."


	26. Smile

Blue and Red

**Smile **

Rating: K

Genre: Romance

Class: Drabble (232 words)

Her smile, she knows, drives him nuts. She has several smiles but the one he sees the most is her personal favorite smile, where all she does is lift the right corner of her mouth up in a gentle smirk. She knows it drives him nuts because it's full of mysteries and secrets, of things she won't tell him and of things she can't tell him yet. She knows the smile drives him nuts but he loves it anyway. She knows because every time she makes the smile, he smiles. Every time they're near each other and she smiles her smile, he kisses her. So, maybe it drives him nuts. But maybe its nuts in not such a bad way.

---

She's told him several times that she loves his smile. He doesn't understand how she can say that because he doesn't really smile often. But she says it anyway. Every time she smiles, he smiles so maybe that's what she's talking about. Or it could be when she does something that seems so unlike her he has to smile. Maybe its her way of confirming to herself that he loves her, even with her past the way it was. If it is a confirmation to her that he loves her, then he likes his smile too. And he's more than willing to consider smiling a little more, only for her though.


	27. Hatred

Blue and Red

A/N: Another Project God series oneshot. It's really short this time.

**Hatred**

Rating: T for violence

Genre: Horror/Romance

Class: Oneshot (641 words)

He held Excella up to the wall, her feet dangling a foot or so off the ground, and stared up at her. The woman, typically so assured in herself and the outcome of whatever situation she was in, looked down into the inky depths of his eyes and seemed like a deer in headlights. She was frozen with terror. For once, whoring herself out to somebody hadn't worked in her favor.

"Your call," the god-like man said to the woman who stood in the shadows of the trees. Her face was hidden by the thick darkness of the night and only the compact handgun in her right hand was clearly visible in the moonlight. It caught the pale light from the moon and seemed to be an unearthly color, its once silver body turning an eerie, pasty white. But none of the three even thought about the gun. It was there because she always carried a gun on her, in her hand at night, not because she wanted to use it on anybody.

"My call?" she repeated. Oh, how easy it would be for him to just _kill _Excella. How very, very easy. All it would take was a twitch of his hand and her neck would snap like a brittle twig. He would prove to the woman that, like everybody had been saying, he was truly fitting of the name Project God.

Oh, how she _loathed _Excella. The woman had made her life a living hell, questioning the very thing she had clung to since the island those years ago. Him. The man. Not the weapon. The man. The relationship she had with the man. She was the only one he trusted. And she liked that. Liked it a lot. But then Excella came about and tried to shove it in her face that he wasn't human. And that had started the beginning of a very bitter relationship between her and the Tricell member.

"Yes, your call. Do I kill this pathetic being? Or do I let her live?" the godly man asked, his head inclined towards her. Excella's eyes flickered from his face to hers and that hatred burned deep within the woman standing in the shadows. How easy it was, the shadowed woman thought, to simply tell him to do it, kill her. It would end the annoyance that was Excella. And it would simply show the weapon in the man she cared for that she could be cold-hearted too. But did she want to be cold-hearted?

As if she had been slapped by Excella, instead of simply looked at, the shadowed woman took a step backwards. "No… Stri… Just… Just let her go." He looked over at her this time, his coal colored eyes meeting hers. And if she had been anybody else, one of his adopted family or even his close friends, he would've shaken his head and killed Excella. But he simply let her go.

His fingers relaxed, their grip on Excella fading, and the woman was freed. She hit the ground and stumbled away from him. She stammered out something, a curse perhaps, in her native tongue before she turned and ran. The shadowed woman and the godly man watched her run before they turned to look at each other. And in that second, the shadowed woman saw that the godly man was gone. And in his place was the man who trusted only her.

"I'm… I…" he started, trying to apologize for his 'other half's' actions but she simply smiled and shook her head. How could she explain to him that she had been the one who'd started the whole thing? That she'd been the one to lure the godly side out to attack the annoying woman, the one she hated. How?

Simple, she realized. You start with words. "No… It's my fault."


	28. Confusion

Blue and Red

A/N: This is a oneshot for my story Duet of the Apocalypse. It's probably going to give some stuff away. But this is just a rough draft of the idea so…

**Confusion**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance

Class: Oneshot (437 words)

"Care to dance?"

She turned, startled by his sudden presence. Even thought the dance was supposed to be formal, with everybody in suits and dresses, he was clad in his street clothes. She guessed he'd arrived late or hadn't planned on coming at all. The whole thing was quite stupid. Cops weren't supposed to dance. They were supposed to protect and serve.

"I didn't know you liked to dance," she admitted, smiling up at him. He smirked back, his ash blond hair falling into his eyes. She had to resist the urge to brush the strands from his face. She knew how that would look though. It wouldn't look like a friendly gesture. No, it would look like something more.

"I don't," he replied, smirking. That smirk of his… She forced herself to drag her eyes from his face and land on the snack table. She was always in control. This sudden…lack of control was confusing and unsettling. She hated the way she felt when she was around him. And yet…it was exhilarating. "It just seemed like the write thing to ask, you know…at a dance," he remarked, grabbing her attention suddenly.

"Oh? Are you sure about that?" she teased, smiling at him warmly. He shrugged, a gesture that she found absolutely adorable. She froze at that thought and made sure to not look at him. He probably noticed, he was observant like that, but he didn't say anything and that was a good thing.

"So…" he mumbled, possibly looking away from her. "How's life with the S.T.A.R.S. going?" She smiled and looked up at him. Which was a mistake because he looked down at her, since he truly had been looking away from her, and it felt like somebody had reached in and grabbed her heart. And every time the vital organ beat, the somebody squeezed.

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" she asked, ignoring the feeling. "Life's going fine though. How's life living under Irons' constant watch?" He grinned at her, apparently pleased by her comeback. She had her moments. She wasn't typically so…playful. But something about him made her _want_ to be a playful person.

"Fun, actually. You should see the way he jumps if I ever do something that seems like a mistake but it's really not," he stated, smirking still. She wondered how he could be so happy that Irons watched him like a hawk. That was something odd about him. She shook her head and looked away from him again and an awkward silence fell over them. "So…care to dance?"

She smirked and shrugged. "Why not?"


	29. Mask

Blue and Red

**Mask**

Rating: K+

Game: Romance/Angst

Class: Drabble (267 words)

It didn't take Angela long to figure out he wasn't half as committed to their relationship as she was. It didn't take her long to notice his lack of enthusiasm over the small things, like their six month anniversary. It didn't take her long to notice he avoided spending nights with her or that when he did he didn't sleep in the same room, let alone bed, as her.

He knew it was wrong of him to not just call the entire relationship off at the beginning but he couldn't help it. He'd succeeded in saving Angela and that made him guilty. Because he should've saved _her _too. So, after the Harvardville incident, he stuck with Angela to avoid facing the guilt.

One day, Angela got enough courage built up to ask him about it. 'Who is she?' she'd asked. He'd bowed his head and mumbled, 'Somebody I can't let go.' And there, the mask he'd been wearing, the mask of stoicism and lack of caring, fell. 'Angela… I'm sorry. It's just…' He never finished explaining that what happened in Harvardville reminded me of Raccoon City, of the woman in red who'd haunted his dreams for 7 years.

Angela surprised him by shrugging. They shared one last apology, what for he didn't know, and he left. The mask had fallen, the guilt was strong. Now, all he had to do was make it up to the one who'd remained a part of him.

And so, standing before her front door-the house of which he'd found through government satellites-he lifted his hand and knocked gently on the wood.


	30. Fetch

Blue and Red

**Fetch**

Rating: K

Genre: Romance/Family

Class: Drabble (336 words)

He sat reading a report on the incident in Africa, one of his hands dangling over the armrest of the chair he sat in. Every few minutes, something small and round would be placed into his hand and he'd take it. With a slight movement, one he'd perfect over the last three years, he'd toss the ball and it'd fly across the living room before bouncing into the backyard. Then, the thing that had placed the ball into his hand would scamper off and fetch it.

The clicking of heels on tile warned him that his wife was home and he lifted his head. The raven haired woman stood near the front door, which lazily swung closed behind her, and had her head slightly cocked at the scene before her. Her green eyes flickered over to meet his pale blue ones and he smiled innocently.

"Please tell me you are not playing fetch with our daughter," she said, setting her pack near the front door. Although she was clad in a cocktail dress that was fitting for an extremely elegant party, her boots and pack told a different story about what she was doing. And her eyes were narrowed angrily, making her appearance that much more frightening. But he saw the slight lift in the corner of her mouth. She wasn't angry. Just confused.

"I'm not," he promised. The small figure suddenly ran into the house but the second her eyes landed on the woman near the door, the game was forgotten. She dropped the ball and ran to her mother. "See? We're not playing anymore." His wife simply rolled her eyes as she pulled her daughter into a loving embrace. "Besides… What kind of a dad would I be? Playing fetch with my daughter… God…"

"Shut up," his wife ordered him, her voice lifted upwards with laughter. Their daughter repeated what her mother had said several times. "See, even she agrees with me. And she never agrees with me." This time, he rolled his eyes.


	31. Apocalypse

Blue and Red

A/N: I suppose this considered depressing but it has a happy ending… (Inspired by the book The Road.) This is one of the few I actually kind of want to turn into a story but oh well… And the ending…is very abrupt.

**Apocalypse**

Rating: T for Violence

Genre: Romance/Horror

Class: Oneshot (1086 words)

The sun's rays tried to pierce through the thick blanket of clouds but failed, like they had every morning for quite some time. The Earth's surface was already starting to cool down without the sun's loving rays which warmed the Earth and its inhabitants willingly. But the clouds that covered the Earth, or at the very least the United States, weren't willing to let any warmth through and they kept the few living beings below locked in a cold, barren world.

Two of these few living beings walked along the empty roads where cars lay broken and twisted among one another. Their heavy boots clunking against the asphalt was the only noise other than the soft whistle coming from the wind as it licked at everything. They both looked calm enough, not like most of the surviving humans walking the desolate world over. But that was because they'd dealt with this kind of thing. Not on a global scale but they'd still dealt with events many would call apocalyptic.

The woman paused in her walking long enough to grab her gun, a slender Browning nine millimeter, and checked the clip. The man, slightly confused by her actions, looked up and spotted a thick plume of smoke floating into the sky. He cringed and went for his own gun, a silver USP that he'd carried around with him for quite some time. They cautiously continued forward.

The funny thing about the end of the world was how easily human's self destructed. Animals were intelligent enough to start migrating towards areas they hoped had food, leaving the cities uninhabited of anything but a few straggling humans. This left the majority of humans scavenging for food wherever they could get it. Including from each other. They'd both seen and heard scrabbles over food, in which the people that were killed were also taken as food. Humans were slowly destroying their own species. It was sad really. But expected.

Neither of them carried anything of great value. They were heading back to a storm bunker they'd found about two weeks back, hoping to find some more supplies even though the bunker had plenty. They didn't want to take the chance of running out any time soon. But they'd been unfortunate. Other than empty shell casings from other guns they'd found nothing worth taking. The shell casings were in their pockets. The man hoped he could do something with them. Ammo was something they both had plenty of. But, like with supplies, they didn't want to take the chance of running out.

"Home sweet home," she suddenly said, breaking his concentration. He glanced over at her, shocked at the way she sounded. Her voice, once a seductive purr, sounded depressed and soft. It was almost like they were both falling apart, just a little bit more slowly than the rest of the world.

He trotted down to the bunker door, which was covered in tree branches and everything, and opened it for her. She gave him a small smile and walked past him and into the black abyss of the world below. He followed her and softly closed the door behind them, letting them fall into a blackness so dark he couldn't see his hand in front of his face if he tried. He stood, his hand on the door to remind him where he was, until a soft glow filled the bunker and he walked down the stairs.

She stood near the electric lantern that dangled from the ceiling, her green eyes glowing in the pale light. It looked rather eerie but he didn't really notice that anymore. Everything looked eerie these days. You just got used to it.

"It's getting colder," she pointed out, walking away from the lamp and over to the generator that was filling the bunker with electricity and heat.

The bunker had been designed, he'd noticed at one point, for a nuclear war and not just a storm. There were provisions to feed an army, several beds packed in the back room, a bathroom with running water, electricity, and heat. The door itself was too thick for anything to force its way in once it locked, which he was about to go make sure it was, and the building itself was tucked quite deeply in the ground. If there happened to be a nuclear war, they were safe.

"Yeah… Guess that's what happens when we can't see the sun anymore, huh?" he asked. She smiled sadly and nodded. He found himself staring at her as she turned back to fumble with the switches and turn the heat up.

They'd found each other right after the Apocalypse, as people were calling it, happened. When he'd seen her, he'd been shocked. Of course, he'd been at the White House and when she just seemed to randomly appear, he'd been confused. But at the time, it hadn't mattered. She'd called to him and they'd agreed to work together to survive. All around them, he remembered, people had been screaming and panicking. About what? He didn't honestly know. Nobody truly knew what the Apocalypse had been.

"I still say it was a nuclear war," he said suddenly, breaking the silence in the bunker. She glanced over her shoulder at him, a curious smile on her lips. "And I get that we'd get radiation poisoning but…maybe the nukes didn't hit us. Maybe they were nearby. But enough nukes going off would cause the clouds."

"Yes but why wouldn't the White House, or at least D.C., have been targeted?" she asked curiously. He shrugged. "There you go. Your nuclear theory is exempt. Now would you stop talking about it?" She spoke harshly but a smile was still on her face.

"…What do you think it was?"

She blinked and then looked at him, her pale face almost glowing in the lamplight. She almost seemed to beg him with her eyes to not answer that question. Because, honestly, who wanted to think about what had happened? Nothing could be done. He was just trying to start a conversation about something other than the constant clouds that hung over them, blocking the sun.

"Sorry," he said gently, looking away. She walked over to him and touched his face, the first time she'd had 'intimate' physical contact with him since they'd joined forces. Maybe that meant they were getting somewhere. Maybe they were just growing closer.

She shook her head, her black hair falling messily into her face. "There's nothing to be sorry about."


	32. Darkness

Blue and Red

**Darkness**

Rating: K

Genre: Family/Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Class: Oneshot (977 words)

In the dead of night it wasn't difficult for a light sleeper like him to notice that lights were shining into his face. These lights didn't carry with them the warmth that sunlight did and they weren't strong enough to be flashlights. If anything, they seemed to be the hall lights.

He dared to open his eyes and confirmed what he'd believed. The hall lights were on and were shining into his room, lighting up every crook and crevice. He groaned and clambered out of bed, trying to remember if he'd left them on the night before or if he'd turned them off. He was pretty certain he'd turned them off. He hated having lights on while he slept.

With a quick flick of the switch, the hall lights shut off. But the hall was still filled with light. It was coming from the bathroom, he realized. He cocked his head curiously before something clicked and a weary smile flickered across his lips. He walked down the hall but didn't go to the bathroom. No, instead he went to the room near the bathroom, where the lights were off but the fish tank and the night light were both shining brightly, illuminating the majority of the room.

And there, sitting in the dead center of the bed in the room with the blankets pulled up around her, was the one who'd been turning on all the lights. She looked at him with wide eyes and smiled shyly, realizing she'd been caught. Again. He feared the day she realized her parents wouldn't wake up if she shut their door. The electric bills would be unbearable then.

"Alright, what's wrong?" he asked, walking over to her bed. She moved away from the center so he could join her on it and as soon as he did, she cuddled up to his side nervously. "And why did you turn all of the lights on out there?" He didn't expect an answer. Not at night at least. So he was shocked when she mumbled something into her blanket. "You know I'm too old to hear you mumble things."

She giggled and buried her face into his side instead. This time, she said, "There are monsters out there." He glanced back out at the hallway, curious. She'd always had terrible nightmares, even after not watching horror movies or sci-fi movies. His friend, who loved to psychoanalyze things, explained that her memories were stemming from her parents memories of their terrible 'adventures' against bioterrorism. He called that ridiculous.

"Really? Then why didn't you turn on the light to your room?" he asked calmly. He didn't tease her about her avid fear of the dark. What was there to tease? He hated trains and boats and docks and all kinds of things because of those so-called 'adventures.' His wife felt the same way. They never teased her. They took her as seriously as possible.

"My room's safe against them," she replied, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. He smiled down at her, hoping that showed he wanted an explanation. "You checked it. Mommy says it's monster proof. And I've got Thor." He tensed up at that last thing and looked towards the doorway.

Sure enough, sitting near the open door, but in the shadows, was the monstrous German shepherd that never left the girl's side. He peered at his original owned with calm eyes and his owner felt a slight sense of unease. Never before had his own dog turned such a glare on him. But he also knew that because he hadn't noticed the dog sitting there meant nobody would, if they ever tried something. She was safe.

"Well then," he said. "If they're in the hallway, why worry about them?" She looked at the doorway and Thor shifted slightly. All that was visible of the dog was his eyes, which slightly reflected the light coming from the fish tank. The animal looked quite creepy in the dark.

"They make weird noises and I stay up all night," she replied. Then she asked the question that he'd been asking as well. "When's Mommy coming back home?" He frowned and looked away from Thor, who seemed to cock his head curiously. No doubt the dog recognized names, as he recognized his own. 'Mommy' was somebody they all wanted back.

"I don't know sweetie… Soon, okay? She said she'd be home soon. I promise." He sounded assured. He didn't feel assured. He felt like a liar. Because he didn't know when she'd be home. But when his daughter was terrified of the darkness in the hallway, of monsters making noises, he didn't think it was necessary to tell her the truth. "How about this. You can come sleep with me tonight, okay?"

The girl brought her body away from his, a tired grin on her face and she nodded. He stood and picked her up, blanket and all, and took her down the hallway. His room was the darkest in the house but they'd done this before. When she was near people, even in pitch black, she slept perfectly fine. Thor sometimes worked but she liked being near people the most.

He carefully set her on the bed, where she instantly started for the middle, in between the two sets of pillows, and curled up under her blanket. Thor hopped up onto the bed too. The animal lay down and was asleep in an instant. Both of his human companions shot him envious looks. How easy it was for him to sleep.

As he started around to his side of the bed, he shot the empty side of the bed a sad and longing look. He wished she would get back soon. Because while their daughter had a terrible fear of the dark, he had a fear of being alone in the darkness.


	33. Drama

Blue and Red

A/N: This can also somewhat be considered part of my high school fic More Than a Feeling. But it's also very different. (So, would I have to call it an AU of an AU? That's kind of confusing…) And it kind of sucks… This chapter I mean. I don't really like it.

**Drama **

Rating: T for language

Genre: Romance/Friendship/Drama/Angst

Class: Oneshot (600 words)

"Too… Much… Drama…" he mumbled as he tossed his backpack onto his best friend's bed. She looked up from her laptop to stare at him and he gave her a wide, nervous grin. "What? It's true." She turned in her chair, cocking her head curiously. She did that just to drive him nuts, he knew that. The first time she'd done that, when they were young children, he'd laughed and said she looked like a dog. She'd done it ever since.

"I'm just curious as to why you're here, not at your house. I was going to call, you know," she remarked, brushing her black hair from her eyes. He gave her another nervous grin. Should he tell her the honest to God reason he'd come over? Or not? He decided to stick with the latter.

"They're following me again," he replied. She laughed, surprisingly, and leaned back in her computer desk chair. "I don't understand why they do it. Especially Ashley. So damned annoying. Will you frighten them off for me, oh great friend?" She smirked at him and stood up. They were almost the same height, she was only shorter than him by a few inches, so when she reached up and patted him on the head he wasn't surprised.

"Calm little boy, we'll go scare off the mean icky girls," she stated, grabbing her heavy jacket. Although she always wore sweaters, she wore jackets overtop of them in the winter. Their state could get pretty cold. "Is it all of them, again?" she asked, looking over her shoulder as they left her room and started to leave her house.

He nodded vacantly, wondering why he'd lied to her. In reality, he could've just asked her to come home with him and she would've agreed. They weren't dating but they'd been best friends since childhood. And unless they had a huge project in a class, they were more than willing to hang out at each other's houses.

They were walking through the front door when he realized he'd forgotten his backpack. He cringed but didn't bother to go back for it. What was the point? Tomorrow was Saturday, he didn't need the backpack until Monday since his teachers had been kind enough to not give them any weekend homework, for once.

"Oh great," she mumbled suddenly and he noticed Ashley and a group of girls standing with her across the street from the house they'd just left. He set his hands on her shoulders, the universal sign of either 'calm down' or 'help me.' This time it was the second sign, although usually it was the first. "What do you want, children?" she called coldly. He thought maybe he should've used the first sign instead.

"We're the same age as you!" Ashley called back, her snobby method of saying things making his friend tense up. He gripped her shoulders a little tighter, changing the meaning of what he was trying to say to her. The girls in the high school all hated each other for reasons unknown, other than the constant 'boyfriend fighting.' Things could get ugly if they were allowed to go within ten feet of each other.

"Physically yes, mentally no," she replied coldly. The girls gaped at her audacity and started to cross the street when he put up one hand, hoping they'd stop for him. Immediately their angry faces fell away, replaced by the faces of lovesick puppies. "What's wrong, don't like the drama?" He smiled and nodded, hoping that was a convincing enough lie. He didn't care about the drama. "Let's take you home then."

They calmly walked away and he lowered his. He didn't care about the drama. He never did. He didn't go to her house to get her to walk him home. He never did…


	34. Pool

Blue and Red

A/N: Basically, this is me and my friend's idea of what would happen if the RE heroes got together for a pool party to celebrate Wesker's death.

**Pool**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Class: Oneshot (995 words)

The pool bustled with activity; survivors with scars covering their bodies from countless fights diving were jumping into the pool. Even with these scars, they didn't look like a group that had fought for their world's safety and they really didn't look like people who'd decided to celebrate the death of their worst enemy. Especially not the ones that weren't as scar covered as the rest.

The crimson clad woman who sat in the shade of an umbrella sighed and rubbed at her eyes with her hands. She was the only person near the pool not in a bathing suit and, in black jeans and boots and a T-shirt, she stood out like a sore thumb. Nobody looked at her though because she didn't really belong in the first place. Somebody had invited her. Somebody who wasn't there at the moment.

She pulled her hands from her eyes and gazed longingly at the pool. No doubt it was nice and cool. The people swimming in it looked relaxed and quite happy. Meanwhile, she sat on the side in the heat, where the water that rushed from the pool because of a body hitting the surface couldn't reach her at all. And she didn't sit there because she wanted to, because she felt like an outcast. No, she sat there for other, more personal reasons.

She couldn't help but look at the people as they got in and out of the pool. There was Chris Redfield, his body covered in tiny scars from claws and maybe a bullet that grazed his skin. Jill Valentine probably had the most obvious of scars, little dots on her chest where the machine Albert Wesker had attached to her had sat. And Carlos Oliveira, a long white scar running over his chest thanks to an attack by the Nemesis tyrant in Raccoon City. And Barry Burton, a scar on his temple from where he'd been knocked unconscious on a mission. Rebecca Chambers and Billy Coen were amazingly lucky. They were scar free. And Claire Redfield only had a tiny scar on her shoulder, from when the snow cat she and another had been fleeing in had been thrown into the air and her shoulder had struck the metal. Angela Miller was another one who was scar free.

She shook her head silently, dragging her eyes from the group, when two hands touched grabbed her shoulders gently. She smiled and leaned back into the chair, letting the newcomer kiss her gently on the cheek. "I was wondering when you'd get here," she admitted.

"Ashley wanted to come and was giving her dad hell because he wouldn't let her," he replied, his rough voice gentle in her ear. Her smile widened and she waited for him to continue. "And I couldn't leave without Hunnigan giving me dirty looks. Not very fair, you know?"

"She's jealous," was her reply. A laugh escaped the tall man and she leaned forward, so she could turn around to face him. As she did, she noticed that he too was clad in clothes that didn't belong at a pool. They were both shy, she guessed, in that certain aspect of their bodies that, although some of the others had, they didn't have nearly as badly. They didn't have the circular bullet wound in the shoulder or the jagged, horizontal scar on their side. They didn't have memories for their scars. They all just blended together eventually, even those who only had one or two scars.

"Probably," he admitted before looking up at the pool party. The others were splashing each other wildly, laughing and enjoying their newfound freedom. She remembered a time when everybody had spent their days looking over their shoulders in fear of being followed, or looking carefully at every window near them for assassins. All of that was over now, she guessed.

"Hey man," Carlos said, waving at the agent near the crimson clad woman. He nodded casually and possibly offered the other man a smile but nothing more. He wasn't a social butterfly, even though everybody loved to talk to him. She knew that about him better than anybody did. "You know, it's a pool party…" Carlos said, staring at the other man.

"Really? I honestly hadn't noticed that." She laughed faintly, trying to keep her voice down. Although she didn't really feel like she was an outcast, she was still an outsider. All these people knew about her was that she had connections to the man standing near her and she was his contact for information. She'd given him leads about Spencer and Las Plagas and Jill, which had in turn gone to the B.S.A.A.

"Hey, I'm just saying," Carlos said, smiling. She wondered if they were friends or if they just knew each other, only acquaintances. She guessed they were probably friends, seeing as they were the truest outcasts of the group, being U.B.C.S. and RPD instead of S.T.A.R.S., or at least related to S.T.A.R.S. Well, them and Billy Coen. And Angela.

---

Everybody made their way into Barry's house, ready for dinner, leaving the two odd dressers alone outside. They stared silently at the pool, almost as if they were entranced by it. But she knew the truth. They were both thinking it. They were alone now. Nobody could judge them.

He held out his hand to her, suddenly, and she took it. "Let's go for a swim."


	35. Storm

Blue and Red

A/N: I suppose this could be considered a sequel to Darkness. In a way.

**Storm**

Rating: K+

Genre: Family/Romance

Class: Oneshot (619 words)

A bright bolt of lightning splintered across the cloudy night sky and lit up his bedroom, followed by the low rumble of thunder that would no doubt be keeping him up all night. He rolled onto his back as another flash lit up the dark corners of his room, chasing away the night for a short couple of seconds. The lightning and thunder would be making sure sleep didn't come to him that night. He knew that for sure.

This was because lightning and thunder reminded him too much of a gun going off. And he'd been stuck in enough firefights that he'd taken an adherence to anything that resembled a gun going off that wasn't in his hands. And these electrical storms easily resembled the crack and flash of a gun going off.

He considered rolling back onto his side when two slender hands grabbed fistfuls of the blankets lazily draped across his chest and, without any words, pulled. A small body clambered up onto the bed and over his chest before plopping down at his side. Then, still without any words, the small form tugged the blankets up over her head and pressed herself to his side.

He didn't need to say anything to her. He knew she, like most young children, had a terrible fear of lightning and thunder storms. And he also knew that during these storms, her mother was the one who took care of her, not him. Because her mother had the same unease about thunderstorms as he did but different. More advanced. He often woke up in the beginning stages of thunderstorms to find her griping his shirt with a fist clenched so tight he doubted a crowbar would open it.

He moved slightly and any space that was created between him and the small body next to him was instantly filled by that body. She sniffled under the blankets, showing the signs of her fading cold. He'd had a difficult time taking care of her with the cold. The sudden coughing and sneezing had taken him by surprise. And unluckily for both of them, her mother had left only the day before to go on a mission. She'd had the cold for about three days now. Luckily it was all gone except for the sniffing thing.

"When's Mommy coming home?" she suddenly asked, as if she already knew he wouldn't be sleeping that night. Then again, she'd been in their room often enough because of thunderstorms that she probably realized he really didn't sleep during thunderstorms.

"I don't know, sweetie," he replied gently, wondering how he could explain to a four year old that her mother wouldn't be home for a week. Her missions were getting to be longer and longer, pushing him and probably her to their limits. They weren't going to let the government steal everything away from them, especially not the little time they had with each other.

"Will she be home soon?" Her voice was tiny all of a sudden, like she was more afraid of the idea of her mother not being home soon than she was of the thunderstorm. Of course, he was more afraid of the idea of his wife not being home soon than he was the thunderstorm. But that was just him.

Without a second of thought, he gently replied, "Yeah, soon." She seemed to accept that and snuggled somehow closer to his side. Now he just had to hope he wasn't proved wrong. Now he just had to hope his wife would be home soon. After all, she knew how to take care of their daughter during the storms. And she knew how to take care of him during them too.


	36. Pain

Blue and Red

A/N: Sorry about the sudden lack of updates and the huge absence. I came down with a really nasty cold/allergy mixture that had me basically bedridden as soon as I got home from school and the computer screen apparently made my headaches worse... I did write, however, in my journal in the mornings so I could update this story and my other one. (See, you readers are still important to me, even when I'm sick.) Anyway, this is another More Than a Feeling one. (Can anybody get the parallel between this chapter and Resident Evil 2?)

**Pain**

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance/Friendship

Class: Drabble (305 words)

Her fingers kneaded his sore shoulder carefully, gently applying weight onto the worst of the bruise. He cringed every now and then as she placed a little more pressure than necessary but for the most part he relaxed in her soothing grip. And of course he felt slightly uncomfortable. His new found feelings for her were hard to ignore when she was so close to him that he felt her heartbeat through his back.

"So, tell me again what happened," she said, her lips close to his ear. He normally would've shifted forward to make the discomfort disappear but he didn't bother this time. His shoulder hurt too much for that to work.

"Nothing to tell really. Billy and I got pissed off at each other and we got into a fight and I won but he still kicked my ass," he replied, trying to make it sound like something that should be forgotten. But that was unlikely. He wouldn't, however, tell her the truth. He wouldn't tell her that Billy had insulted her and that he'd attacked the other, bigger boy because of it.

"It's just so weird… You and Billy usually get along," she said, her fingers carefully rubbing over the tender area of his left shoulder. Front and back hurt pretty badly but she was more interested in front. She knew more about human anatomy though, so he remained silent about the whole thing. "Whatever. I'll take care of wittle you because you got beat up by the big bad Billy," she cooed playfully into his ear.

Although he laughed, he knew it would've been funnier had his friendly love and his more than friendly love not been clashing inside of him at the moment, making his laugh sound forced. But she didn't notice. And he silently thanked God for the little things.


	37. Teenager

Blue and Red

A/N: Just as a quick warning, there won't be any updates this weekend since I won't be near a computer until either late Sunday afternoon or Monday morning.

**Teenager**

Rating: K+

Genre: Family/Romance

Class: Oneshot (778 words)

When everybody told him that the most difficult part of being a father would be his child's teen years, he'd been okay with that. He'd been a teenager once. He remembered all of the ridiculous things he did during those years. So, he didn't really worry about his daughter being a teenager. But there were things they didn't warn him of that would occur during her teen years, things he should've known of but seemed to 'forget.'

One thing was the sudden school frenzy. What had once been a household filled with random conversations about things that nobody would understand but them was now a household filled with "I need this for school" and "my friend from school wants" among others. He wasn't really bothered by it. He just missed the good old days of talking to her without having her high school jump into the conversation.

…Okay, he was bothered by it. He wanted his little girl back, not the high school student who cared about her grades and how she looked and what kind of people she sat with at lunch or whatever else kids talked about. His wife said he was just being ridiculous. She said that it was a teenager's job to worry about her looks and all that good stuff. And, she'd told him, he was supposed to know that. After all, he'd been a teen once.

Another thing was the fashion. Oh God, how he wanted to personally go out and kill the morons who came up with modern-day female fashion. He hated walking down the stairs, fixing his jacket, and seeing his daughter clad in less clothes than what his wife slept in. And of course, he'd tried to convince her not to wear those kinds of clothes. His dark haired, pale eyed daughter never listened to him though.

The lack of clothing bothered him. When it came to his wife, lack of clothes was sexy. When it came to his daughter, it was infuriating. But, sometimes, she'd wear something a little more acceptable in his eyes, like looser jeans or a long-sleeved shirt. But his wife still shook her head at his attitude and playfully reminded him that he should know that girls liked to show off their bodies during these years. After all, he'd been a teen once.

The worst thing, by far, was the boys. How he loathed the boys. He'd been expecting it. Having a wife who could pass as a supermodel had assured a daughter with looks that would catch any males' eyes. But that didn't mean he liked it when male teens came to his house clad in horrid clothing with greasy looking hair. In fact, every time she brought one home he personally had their dog, a Rottweiler-Doberman mix, stand in the room with the boy. Just a little scare tactic.

The boys made him wary. He didn't trust them. He knew how their minds worked. And he didn't want to see his daughter in any situation where a smile wasn't on her lips. That just would not do. So, whenever he was with the boy he'd give them the "break my daughter's heart and I'll break you" speech. Once, he'd even gone so far as to tell the boy that the second a problem in their relationship appeared, he – as a loving father – would set up automated machine guns on the roof of the house that would pick him off from a mile away. His wife had laughed and scolded him about that. She reminded him that he'd once tried to get with girls and had had to face their fathers. She'd said that he should be a little more respectful of them. After all, he'd been a teen once.

But no matter how many times she talked about school, or how scantily she dressed, or whatever ugly males she brought home, he knew that there would always be a difference in her from the other teenagers. Because she wasn't like the teens who constantly fought with their parents. No, instead she had a nightly habit of walking downstairs where her insomniac parents would be sitting on the couch together and joining them. She'd curl up against her father's side, her body tucked up against his like when she was a mere child, and he'd smile and his wife would smile and everything would be good.

But they never brought up their 'family time,' as his wife had taken to calling it, around her friends. Because that would be just embarrassing. And he knew how painful embarrassment could be. After all, he'd been a teen once.


	38. Damsel

Blue and Red

A/N: This is rather old. I wanted to turn it into a Resident Evil 4 AU but I never did so… Anyway, I just thought I'd share it.

**Damsel**

Rating: T to be safe

Genre: Romance/Action/Adventure

Class: Oneshot (602 words)

The boot on his chest was slowly putting more and more pressure down on the delicate bones that formed a protective case around his vital organs. There wasn't much Leon could do to escape. His own curiosity had gotten the better of him, again. Mendez, the chief of the insane village Leon had spent his last couple hours trying to survive, had attacked the agent. But when Leon had been released, instead of listening to the giant man and retreating like a good little agent, he'd followed the lumbering thug into his bedroom.

And here he was. Laying on the floor, having his chest slowly crushed by a massive foot. He couldn't do anything and Leon was sadly starting to accept his fate. But fate had a way of playing with him.

Right before Leon feared his sternum would collapse under the giant's weight, two loud cracks startled both of them, with Leon thinking his ribcage had given out under the man, and the giant jerked as something hit his body. Leon recognized the noise as gunshots; somebody had just saved his life. Mendez removed his foot from the agent's chest, turning his body ever so slowly and letting Leon catch a quick glimpse of his savior; a woman in a crimson gown.

That struck a bell. The agent tried to stand but his chest stopped him with a sharp pain that took his breath away. Mendez was already taking a running leap out the window by the time Leon had picked himself up off the dusty floor. The blond agent ran to the window, fearing the worst for the crimson clad woman but neither she nor Mendez were visible. Leon frowned.

_Was it her? …That's not possible… It couldn't be her…_

Leon swallowed thickly and held onto the window sill. But what if it was? What if fate was playing with him again? What if it really was her?

Leon wasn't a foolish man. But he knew that running down the stairs to follow the woman and Mendez would take much too long. So, thinking quickly, Leon lifted himself out of the window and jumped down to the balcony that rested only five or so feet below. He felt a slight pain spark in his ribcage but he ignored it and jumped off the balcony, sprinting after the woman and Mendez and using Mendez's huge footprints in the dust to find out where they went.

The agent stopped himself right before he ran into the backs of some villagers. They were too busy babbling amongst themselves to notice the young agent standing behind them. Said agent slowly backed off, his bright blue eyes wide with shock. He was lucky. They hadn't caught him. But then he saw red again. He glanced in between the villagers. And there she lay. Unconscious. Ada Wong.

_She's alive... She really is alive… _

Leon ducked behind some trees, hoping they'd provide enough cover for him to watch but not be caught. The villagers parted to let Mendez through but then they all crowded around the unconscious Ada. One of them lifted her up and carried her away over his shoulder like a fireman would.

The agent had a mission to do. He had to save Ashley. …But he wasn't about to let Ada get hurt. He could do both.

_I hope…_

As soon as Mendez and the villagers had walked a way a little bit, a couple of them heading back up towards the house and miraculously passing Leon without noticing him, he followed them.

Leon was off to save the 'damsel in distress' once again.


	39. Crazy

Blue and Red

A/N: Another old story idea. This one was never completed the way I wanted it to be and I didn't feel like going through and trying to complete. (I wrote this story about quite a while ago. I hardly remember what I wanted to occur in it.) So…there's not really an ending, per se. Use your imagination.

**Crazy**

Rating: T for violence

Genre: Action/Adventure/Suspense/Romance

Class: Oneshot (2, 224 words)

They said she was insane, that she _thought_ she was an assassin. They said she _thought_ that Raccoon City and the Spanish incident were real when everybody knows that they were both fake and made up by lunatics. Like her.

_I'm not nuts… I'm not nuts… _Ada repeated in her head, like a mantra. Those three words seemed to be the only reason she hadn't snapped by now and broken her doctor's neck. Or killed herself.

The room they locked her in was small and cold almost 24/7 unless she got into a fight with an orderly, which happened less and less these days. Her bed was tiny, barely long enough for her to stretch out when she lay on it. And what's worse was it was a clean white and stank of chemicals, like the ones they tried to pump into her system.

Ada Wong, once the deadliest woman around, was curled up in a small ball in the corner of her bed, her knees tucked up against her chest and her forehead rested on them. She felt pathetic and weak, forced into a small space like this.

_I should have known Wesker would do something like this… I should've and I ignored the facts… I thought I could get away with betraying him…_

The door opened and Ada instantly lifted her head, hoping for the one person who could defend her. But it wasn't _him_. No, it was her doctor.

A wiry little man, Ada had on more than one occasion thought of breaking his neck or at least an arm. He bothered her and constantly let his eyes roam where they shouldn't, even though she was dressed in white pants and a very loose white shirt. He had huge, watery eyes that were almost always filled with lust and a pointed nose. Worst of all was his fake smile; he had teeth that were whiter than the sterile walls.

"Ready for another session?" he asked in a voice that reminded Ada of Ashley's annoying squeaks in Spain.

_Remember Ada, Ashley doesn't exist. President Graham doesn't exist. Wesker doesn't, Umbrella doesn't, and Leon… Sweet, heroic Leon doesn't exist either…_

Ada was actually beginning to think she truly was insane, that whenever she had felt an axe slice the air next to her shoulder or the slight pain she'd felt when she'd been shot in the neck by a dart gun were all elaborate tricks made by her mind. But she was always saved by Leon, literally and figuratively. He'd saved her several times in real life and now he saved her by making her stay sane.

Whenever she began to doubt herself, her dreams would be when he'd taken the bullet for her in Raccoon, when she'd felt hot blood splash against her skin. That was too real for her to imagine it. Not that the doctors knew about that. They would just say that Leon didn't exist. When she knew he did.

"Ada, are you coming? I don't want to have to get our friend Johnny," her doctor, Melvin or something like that, said. The orderly Johnny, who still had a ruined wrist from when he tried to grab her butt, was more than likely waiting for her in the hall.

She nodded submissively and again repressed the urge to break a limp. His arm was just so small and she knew where to hit exactly that would break it like a twig. Why not? Johnny wouldn't be able to stop her in time. And a couple more days in solitary confinement might not be so bad. At least then she wasn't scolded for believing in Raccoon.

_I'm not nuts… I can't be._

She followed the doctor into the cafeteria and they sat down at a table in the center of the room. He smiled at her and she narrowed her eyes at him.

_It would be easy. Lunge at him across the table and a quick twist and the doctor is dead. I'm insane, right? I could get away with it._

She frowned and looked away, breaking the staring contest and forcing herself into the submissive act again. He grinned then, eyes wandering, and she couldn't help but think he looked like _he _was the insane one. She bit her tongue and looked at her slip-on shoes.

"Um, doctor? There is a man here to see you. Would you like us to put her back in her room?" an orderly mumbled into the doctor's ear. Ada hadn't even seen him walk up. Her typically sharp eyes were dulled by days of no sleep and drugs that they forced on her.

"No, no, she can stay in here. She needs the room to exercise after all. She's harmless, my boy. I'll be right back, dear," the doctor said before leaving the large room.

Ada watched him leave, noticing that the orderly retreated to a corner of the room. She looked at the fork sitting in front of her on a tray that she had, like usual, ignored. The food was lumpy and looked like something one would eat while they were in outer space.

_I could easily kill him and escape, _she thought about the orderly in the corner._ He's a rookie, afraid. It would be easy to stab him and run…_

And then she remembered the last rookie she had underestimated. Leon. Though he had been a rookie police officer, he'd handled the situation like a pro. Until she'd gotten hurt. He'd wanted to help her but he hadn't been able to.  
_How different would things have been if I had survived with him? If I'd actually gotten away from that tyrant before he grabbed me and we'd made it to the train together? Would we have stayed together or would I have snapped and abandoned him?_

The orderly made a muffled noise and went down with a thud. Ada frowned as a man in black stepped forward, a black biker's helmet hiding his face. She stood and backed away, her chair falling over with a loud noise, but the man held his hands up. He was unarmed. She saw a pistol in a shoulder harness under his jacket but he didn't go for it.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," a familiar voice promised.

"Leon?" she whispered and he took the helmet off. Sure enough, the man was blond and blue eyed and looked boyish and yet adult at the same time. It was Leon Kennedy. He flashed her a faint smile.

"Hurry, we have to get out of here," he said, motioning her to him. She nodded and practically ran over to him. She wasn't afraid, just relieved. Relieved that she wasn't insane and that Leon was real. "Here, take my jacket. We'll have to hide your clothes."

She accepted the black leather jacket and slipped it on, forcing herself to ignore the fact that it smelled like him and that it was warm like him. He took her hand and, carrying the helmet in his other hand, exited the cafeteria.

The hospital, or insane asylum, was empty and Ada felt worried. Leon slipped the helmet back on and tugged on her hand, leading her down a hall. She didn't really pay attention to which one it was, all she knew was one second they were alone and the next, four orderlies were shouting at them. Leon pulled her closer to him, grabbed the pistol from its holster, and shot the men, dead on. Ada's ears rang from the thundering booms that echoed in the hallway.

They collapsed, blood blooming out over their white uniforms like petals on a flower. Ada watched the other two orderlies cower under Leon's gun and back away as he led her out of the building. She felt tired and found it difficult to focus on what was going on.

A jet black Ford Lightning sat right in front of them and Leon motioned for her to get in. She did as she was told and buckled up, staring in fear as several orderlies ran out. Then they too were taken out, blood spraying out of their chests and heads. But… Leon was in the truck, how was that possible?

"Thank God, backup arrived," Leon breathed, taking his helmet off. "Are you okay?"

She looked over at him, confused and he smiled slightly. "Sorry. I have to explain some stuff, I know. Let's get you somewhere safe and I'll explain."

She nodded and leaned back, closing her eyes as Leon drove away from the hospital. She wasn't insane and she was safe and that's really all she cared about.

---

Leon carried Ada's sleeping form inside his house, trying to ignore his two dogs trying to jump up and great their guest. He ordered them to back down and they stared at him in response. He carried Ada into his room and laid her on his bed. She looked different asleep, not like the deadly woman he'd known.

_God, what has she been through?_

He tried to ignore the feelings that rose inside of him as he quietly closed the door to his room, leaving Ada to sleep in peace. Thor, his German shepherd, and Malu-Pei, his Shar Pei/Malamute mix, sat respectively near his favorite side of the couch, waiting for him. They gave him doggie smiles as they panted silently.

The week had been hectic. _Very_ hectic. It had been three months since Spain and since he hadn't been able to get his mind off of Ada, he'd found himself searching for her. He'd gotten no information at first until he read a report about the hospital.

Umbrella had created it several years ago and Ada, along with several other Raccoon City survivors, was being held there. They were all deemed insane and a doctor, Melvin Marko, was treating them. They all spoke of Raccoon and he told them that the city didn't even exist. Had never existed. With Ada, he'd said that the President wasn't Graham, that the Spain incident didn't occur, and that Wesker wasn't real either.

Leon had been lucky to find the security tapes where he'd said this. He'd handed them over to Hunnigan and she'd given them to the president, who'd sent Leon and several other agents out to stop the hospital.

Thor's head jerked up suddenly and Leon watched as he looked at a pale form standing near Leon's bedroom. Ada. Leon stood and walked over to her, though he stopped about a foot away from her.

"Cute dogs," Ada mumbled as the two canines trotted over to her. Leon was worried they would attack her but Thor rubbed his head against her hand and Malu-Pei rolled over in hopes of a belly rub. "They have names?"

He couldn't answer for a couple seconds, confused by her attitude. He was so used to the aloof and calm Ada that this Ada startled him. She gave him a look and he pointed to their collars. She knelt down and checked their names.

"Malu-Pei. Did you name her that? Or did she come with that name?" Ada asked, rubbing Thor's head while reading the mutt's collar.

"Uh, my sister named her, actually. Malu's technically her dog but she can't afford to take care of her for now. Thor's mine. I…. I stick with simple names," Leon admitted.

"Thor's not a very common name. It became common after the book about the German shepherd that took on a werewolf came out. Did you name him after that?"

"Yeah. Well, my sister kind of told me to. I don't get much of a choice when it comes to names."

She rubbed Malu-Pei's belly and scratched Thor's ears. Both dogs had droopy eyes and their tongues rolled out in bliss. This startled Leon. The two animals were trained guard dogs after all. They typically weren't comfortable with anybody they didn't recognize.

"Honestly, I didn't know you liked dogs. I thought Raccoon would've gotten rid of that," Ada pointed out. He smiled faintly.

"Those were Dobermans. I can't go anywhere near them, honestly. And I've had Thor for going on eight years now. I trust him," Leon said. Ada smirked and stood. The dogs gave her heart-broken looks before returning to the couch, where they plopped down and closed their eyes.

Ada looked at him and he frowned, stating, "I guess you'd like answers? About how I knew you were in that hospital?"

"Not really. I could care less," she said, stepping closer. The dogs shifted their ears in her direction, hopeful for more attention.

"What'd they do to you? Or try to do to you?" Leon asked, unconsciously concerned for her, like always. He couldn't help it. He wanted to- No, had to, for reasons he didn't like to think about.

"Nothing really. I think he might've been trying to wipe out my memories or just make me think I was insane and made everything up. I know I didn't. I'm not stupid and I'm not nuts," Ada said, her voice sad and angry at the same time.

"Of course you aren't. If you are, then so am I. And a shit load of other Raccoon City survivors," Leon agreed. She looked at him, gratitude in her pale eyes. That was a start, she guessed, in the right direction.


End file.
